Crossfire
by Chlover
Summary: Sequel to Stuck In My Ways. Hwoarang makes a few mistakes, namely Kazuya and Jin... And Julia. YAOI! Finally COMPLETED! R&R! Or else!
1. Loveless, Shameless as you

A/N: Ok I suppose I should have given more of an explanation for my incomplete story, "Stuck In My Ways". That's very easy to explain, and I can do it in four words. I AM A GEMINI. 

Enjoy the Sequel ;)

Oh, and I decided to give Jin a bit of a bigger part… I change my mind a lot…

Crossfire

Chapter One

Loveless, shameless as you.

Art. What was the big deal about art? Sculptures, paintings, whatever. Why were these idiots making so much money out of their crap? A three-year-old could toss a hunk of clay together or splatter a bunch of paint on a canvas. People call it talent? People pay tons of money for that crap? What for? Why don't they do their own art? 

At least 150 people crowded inside the museum. A few dramatic looking women crowded around a dark painting, discussing what the artist had been feeling, as if they understood. They wore all black, and they wore no makeup. One of them wore a beret. Drama queens. They didn't understand darkness. Darkness was not something that was meant to be understood. 

Hwoarang trailed lazily behind his girlfriend as she browsed through the art exhibit. It probably could have been worse. She could have taken him to a ballet. At least he was back in Asia. Back with his girlfriend. Back in his straight lifestyle, where the only secrets he had to keep was the pit fights. 

It had been a little over a month since he had last seen Kazuya, and he counted on it being longer. A month for his wounds to heal… unknown to anyone else, there were a series of self inflicted wounds on his hands and chest. Of course, he always kept his gloves and shirt on, so he wasn't worried about anyone seeing the wounds. Whenever Julia would see the ones on his chest, he'd simply tell her that he got into another fight. The lecture was better then what might happen if she knew the truth. She might think him suicidal or some stupid shit like that, and he didn't need her constantly watching him, afraid he'll jump off a bridge or something.

They stopped in a crowd of black-wearing depressed yuppies, where some perky scrawny guy was explaining the history of a specific painting. Hwoarang rolled his eyes and found himself scanning the other crowds. If only his old friends were there with him. At least with friends, he'd have someone to help him make fun of those beatniks. His eyes rested on someone wearing a blue jacket with the hood pulled up. It couldn't be. Their back was turned so he couldn't tell for sure.

"Shit," He breathed as the figure turned around. Yep, it was Jin.

Julia looked up at Hwoarang, squeezing his hand, "What's wrong?" Without even waiting for an answer, she followed his gaze to see Jin, "Oh! Let's go say hi!"

"What?" Hwoarang asked absently, then looked at her in shock, "Go say Hi? Are you insane? We're enemies, in case you forgot. I hate him!"

"Don't be so stubborn. What harm can it do?" Julia pulled her boyfriend over to the other man, and tapped Jin on the shoulder, "Hello Kazama, Jin!"

Jin turned around calmly, hiding his surprise with great discipline. His eyes immediately came to rest on his rival, and his gaze did not move even as he spoke to Julia. "Hello, Julia," He replied, pushing his hands into his pockets, nervously. 

Julia nudged Hwoarang, "Don't be rude, honey."

"…You two are," Jin paused, the corner of his mouth curling in a subtle smirk, "Together?"

"Yes," She smiled, "Two years."

Jin's smirk became more definite, "Two years? Wow. Why didn't you mention it the other day, Hwoarang?"

"The other day?" Julia looked at Hwoarang.

Hwoarang sneered, "It was a month ago," He glared at Jin, "I'm going to get something to drink. Want anything, Jules?"

"Uh… Yeah. Water, please."

"Water?" Hwoarang rolled his eyes, rambling as he walked away, "Who the hell drinks water anymore? Come on, LIVE a little! Fucking conservative tree-hugger."

Jin quirked a brow, "Does he always talk to you like that?"

She shrugged, "Only when he's doing me a favour. I think it's a pride thing."

"Mm hmm… Excuse me, please," Jin said as he walked past Julia.

The trek to the snack table, where the drinks were, was difficult. Hwoarang wasn't exactly experienced at moving through large groups of slow-assed yuppies. Why were they always standing in the middle of the path? There were areas to stand and stare at crap, but they completely ignored those areas. 

The snack table didn't have much variety. There was a bunch of cheese, and punch. Normally these occasions had wine too, but this one was hosted by one of those anti-smoking anti-alcohol anti-movement organizations. Even Hwoarang knew that those incredibly moral people had no place in the art community, but those kind of people seemed to be set on world domination.

"Blood Talon."

Hwoarang jumped, spinning around on his heel, "Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me?"

Jin grinned and crossed his arms, "Is there a problem?"

"You're damn right there's a problem," Hwoarang raged, resisting the urge to punch his rival out, "You asshole! What the fuck were you trying to accomplish, bringing up last month? You trying to give me a fucking heart attack?"

The Japanese man cringed as a group of passing people glared at them. He replied, in a calmer, quieter voice then his counterpart's, "What I wanna know is what _you_ were trying to accomplish when you… Attacked me, last month."

Hwoarang opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, suddenly deciding against it. He looked away from Jin and shrugged, "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Oh well then maybe Julia will have an answer for me," Jin smiled and turned to leave.

The Korean cursed to himself and grabbed his rival's forearm, "Don't even think about it." Once Jin quirked an eyebrow, allowing Hwoarang to recall when that had been said before, Hwoarang continued, "Fine, asshole. I'll talk, but not now." He grabbed a napkin, "You got a pen?"

Jin pulled out a green fountain pen and scowled as the redhead snatched it out of his hand. "Help yourself," he offered sarcastically.

"Ok," Hwoarang scribbled something down in barely readable writing, "Meet me at this address tomorrow at 10 pm. If you're even a second late, I won't be there."

"How do I know you'll be there in the first place?"

The Korean rolled his eyes, "Look, if you want to talk to me, you're going to have to compromise a little."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone at last! What a night. If Hwoarang had to look at one more painting, he was certain the cops would have found him a week later, on the top of a billboard, painting random obscenities with the beatniks' blood, and calling it art. He stopped in his tracks and considered the idea.

It was a bad neighbourhood, not a place he'd like Julia to catch him in, but from what Hwoarang understood, there were some pit fights going on every night. If only he could figure out where… Could it be that bar where men were staggering out, holding bloody noses? Perhaps. There was only one way to find out. But just seeing bloody noses wasn't promising. Maybe it was just that it was still early in the night yet.

Hwoarang walked into the bar, noting two men by the door. Probably looking out for pigs. Yes! Perfect! A crowd was gathered in the centre of the room. All the tables had been shoved against walls. A man in a big coat approached the Korean and asked in Japanese, "Place a bet?"

"No," Hwoarang replied in his stiff Japanese, "Get lost," And pushed his way through the crowd, halfway until he could see what was going on. 

A big guy was going against an even bigger guy. One of them looked Egyptian, while the other looked either Greek or Italian. Hwoarang couldn't tell the difference. They exchanged a few slaps, but were focused mainly on staring the other down. Hwoarang studied their movement, planning his defence strategy for whomever he went up against.

Eventually, the Italian/Greek one flinched, and the Egyptian one attacked with a strange, but fatal technique. The man used less of his weight, going against the trend for men his size. His attacks were based on manipulating balance and speed. Lots of fake outs, and stealthily dodging potential retaliation. Hwoarang was in awe, but he knew it was nothing he couldn't handle. 

Within moments, the Italian/Greek man was reduced to a bloody pulp, being escorted out of the circle by a couple other Italian/Greek looking men. A waitress came into the centre, smiling as if it was a simple game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. "Anyone else dare to challenge our undefeated champion?"

Undefeated? Hwoarang smirked and stepped forward, "Sounds fun." As he stepped up next to the Egyptian man, who was almost twice his size, he could hear the crowd murmuring and placing their bets. "Hey big daddy," he winked at the big man, "Spend a little too much time at the buffet?"

TBC…………


	2. Painful Eyes

A/N: In this chapter we meet… nobody important really, I just didn't know what else to say here.

**Disclaimer** Tekken is owned by Namco and not me. I just manipulate the characters for entertainment purposes.

Crossfire

Chapter Two

Painful Eyes

Right before the waitress could say 'double Knockout,' the blood-soaked Korean and the Egyptian both climbed back to their feet. The fight wasn't over. Hwoarang refused to be defeated by another man. It wouldn't happen again. 

Hwoarang shifted his stance, sweeping his foot under the other man. The move was easily blocked, but while the man was busy recovering from blocking, Hwoarang twisted, and nailed the man across the jaw with his boot. The other man didn't miss a beat, using the blow to his advantage, by moving with it and spinning into a mid-blow. His fist would have broken a rib or two, but instead slammed against something stiff. 

Despite his wounded state, Hwoarang grinned and winked before leaping into the air with a small combo that he liked to call the 'Hunting hawk.' He had wrapped his chest in gauze, and coated it with flour and water. A little dirty trick Doo San had taught him. It was common knowledge that it was frowned upon to wear any protection in these fights, but his little mixture could easily be passed off as a cast. 

The Egyptian didn't look like he was going to get back up at first. For a moment, Hwoarang thought it was over, that was until he spotted someone in the crowd that stole his attention, and the next thing he knew, a foot nailed him right between the legs.

Hwoarang's eyes widened on the unexpected impact, and his breath got trapped in his throat. He was sure he should have been screaming, but the only noise he could manage was a tiny squeak. The Egyptian passed out seconds after his dirty attack. 

Before announcing anything, the waitress poked the unconscious Egyptian with the heel of her shoe, to make sure he was really out. She then grabbed Hwoarang's hand and helped him up, "We have a new champion! What's your name, cutie?"

Hwoarang shook his head, holding himself. He couldn't talk and didn't want to make another embarrassing squeak if he tried. His eyes scanned the crowd again. Yes. Standing between two fat boozers, was the man himself. Kazuya Mishima. Some short waitress pushed her way into the centre, and shoved a wad of cash into Hwoarang's free hand, "May I suggest using some of that on a drink, handsome?"

He rolled his eyes and limped back into the crowd, cursing away the pain as he did so. That was a really cheap shot. Even Hwoarang himself would never resort to doing something like that. The pain was unbearable, but he had lived through worse, and he wasn't about to break down in front of all those people. 

Just as he was about to head for the doors, he heard a bunch of shouting in Japanese. It was the lookouts. They were talking too fast for Hwoarang to understand, but by the urgency in their voices, he could guess. As if to confirm his suspicions, a few armed policemen busted through the door, night sticks drawn and ready to beat anyone within range. Hwoarang cursed again, and looked around the bar for an escape. One of the cops spotted him. It was one he knew from the last time he was in Japan. Wasn't a very friendly cop, and he had taken a liking to arresting the Blood Talon.

Before Hwoarang could conjure up a welcoming insult to use when he got cuffed, an arm weaved past his arms and around his chest. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air, landing on the bar counter, and back into the air again, smashing through a high window. A shower of glass shards fell down on him, but he hadn't been the one to create the shower, so the glass slid off him just as easily as it had fell, without leaving so much as a scratch. 

As his captor ran, Hwoarang's heels dragged on the ground, shaking his feet uncomfortably to the point where he was sure; he'd have problems walking again. He watched calmly as dark streets passed by. Of course, he didn't want to be alone with Kazuya for fear of the devil, but after that leap through the window, he was positive that it was already the devil. There's no use trying to escape if that were the truth. 

They came to a stop in a dark alley. Kazuya (or devil) dropped Hwoarang in a puddle, and laughed when he barked an obscene string of barely audible curses. "How I missed you, my beautiful human."

"Fuck you," Hwoarang coughed, holding his pained package. "What the hell is this about? Why didn't you let me get arrested?"

"You wouldn't be a very useful toy if you were behind bars."

Hwoarang coughed, "Toy? Man, just tell me what you want and get it fucking over with. I have a curfew."

The devil knelt down by its favourite prey, and gently caressed Hwoarang's cheek with its rough hand. Its eyes drifted over his body, despite the lack of light. The red glow in its eyes faded, and in seconds it was Kazuya again, "Hwoa-kun," Kazuya whispered after a while, "I'm sorry…"

The Korean allowed the Japanese arms to pull him out of the puddle, and into a loose embrace, leaving room for rejection. Hwoarang buried his face into Kazuya's neck, not knowing what else to do. He feared the devil, and for that reason, he feared Kazuya, but there was comfort in the protective way Kazuya held him. There was comfort, and there was… passion? 

So many things were wrong with his strange attraction to Kazuya Mishima. Baek Doo San would be turning in his grave. But Hwoarang couldn't help it, no matter how hard he tried to help it. He needed out, whether he wanted out or not. 

Hwoarang pulled back a little bit, so that he was face-to-face with his former lover. Those eyes. Those eyes that had seen the unthinkable. Those eyes that had seen a lifetime of pain and hatred, stared back at Hwoarang with something more. But it didn't matter. Things couldn't be that way. Hwoarang couldn't live in fear any longer. He couldn't live with such a heavy lie on his shoulders.

"Mishima-sama," The Korean spoke, breaking apart from his companion's arms completely, "Tell me… If I finish my task with Kazama, Jin, will you leave me alone, and not come back into my life?"

Kazuya closed his eyes and stepped back as if he had been hit. When he finally did open his eyes, he looked down in shame, and refused to meet the boy's eyes, "Do not worry about my son. I do not wish to use you. If you want me to leave you alone, I will. Goodbye." With that said, Kazuya turned and headed out into the street.

"… Kazuya…" Hwoarang said under his breath as if it were a curse. He ran out into the street after his former lover. Strangely, Kazuya was nowhere in sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

/You lied to our toy. Tsk, tsk, tsk.\

Unfortunately, It was a elevator with mirrored walls, so there was no way Kazuya could escape the taunting eyes of his inner demon. He ran a hand through his hair, and remained silent. There was no need to reply, since the devil would continue anyway.

/I know you're thinking of taking advantage of your toy. Tell me your ideas, 'Mishima-sama'.\

Kazuya stepped out of the elevator, glad to get away from having to look at that creature. Despite how irritated he was that the creature was teasing him about his Hwoa-kun, he still did not make any move to answer. Of course, lack of answers was enough to keep the demon talking, in it's voiceless language.

/You've got a thirst for power in your aura. How do you intend on attaining this power?\

The door to his room unlocked with a quiet click, and he stepped inside, locking the door behind him. He tried to resist feeling guilty for what he was going to do. Hwoa-kun brought it all upon himself. If they would not be together, Kazuya had no reason to protect the boy. 

Kazuya sat down on the bed and smirked, "He was so certain that he could complete his task, which gives me reason to believe he already met up with Jin. After tonight, judging by the way he was acting, he will be deeply confused and troubled. I have no doubt that he will decide to complete the task in order to prove to himself that he can." He paused and looked out the window, "Tomorrow we follow him."

/Very good, my pet. If you weren't an evil bastard, I'd suggest becoming a cop.\

"Shut up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please be asleep! 

Another typical night of coming home late. Hwoarang came to his apartment door. He rented out the apartment after the forth tournament, when he figured, since he was in Japan so much, an apartment would be a lot less expensive then constant hotel bills. Of course it was in a fairly bad neighbourhood, since it was a low-rental agency, so Julia usually pulled a fit whenever she stayed there.

The door opened with a quiet squeak. Looked like something needed oil. The floor creaked under his weight. Damn place. His noise would probably wake her. She was always a light sleeper, especially when she stayed at his place. 

Just as he closed the door behind him, something soft landed on his head and the lights flickered on. Julia stood there angrily tapping her foot as she watched Hwoarang pull the thing off his head. Her venomous eyes bored two holes through his head as she asked, "Care to explain that?"

Hwoarang looked down at the white denim vest in his hands. "Uh… What?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Look at the collar."

He fumbled around with the vest, still fighting through his pain between his legs. Eventually he found the collar, and found what she was so angry about. There was pink lipstick on it. "Uh…" He tried to resist laughing, "You sure this isn't from you?"

Julia glared at him, "I don't wear lipstick."

"Well, neither do the people I cheat on you with," Hwoarang said in a joking tone, despite the honesty of his statement. 

"This isn't funny, Hwoarang! Who is she?"

He shrugged, looking at the smudge of lipstick, "Julia, there is no she. I have no clue how this got here, I swear… I don't even remember the last time I wore this… I don't even think it fits anymore. Now can you please stop rummaging through my stuff?"

"I was cleaning."

"Well please don't. I like my pad germ-infested. They keep me company when you make me sleep on the couch."

She frowned, "There is no girl?"

Hwoarang couldn't help it. He laughed, falling back against the door, "Nope. You're the only girl for me, Julia."

"Why is there blood on your clothes?"

He stopped laughing and looked down, cursing himself for forgetting about the fight, even though he was still feeling it, "Uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of a tangible excuse, "Oh yeah," he frowned, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I kinda got into another bar brawl. This big guy was picking on some other guy for no reason so I kicked his ass." He looked down at his pants, "He kinda hurt me… I'm sorry."

"Come on, let me fix you up," Julia sighed and walked into the bathroom, pouring water into the bathtub.

Hwoarang grinned inwardly and followed his girlfriend.

TBC………. 


	3. To Trap A Man

A/N: Thank you for the great reviews. I'm sorry if you're reading this for HwoaJules, because I'm not a Julia fan, so it's safe to say that, that specific couple won't live happily ever after. Although I am flattered that you still read even through the yaoi. 

I know I mentioned more Masochism, and haven't really delivered much, but don't worry because I already have a bit written into the next chapter. And as for the mystery of where I'm taking this fic… I know you don't want me to tell you but I couldn't even if you did. I have no clue. Should I be admitting that? Oh well…

Crossfire

Chapter Three

To Trap A Man

Condemned. How come the condemned places were always the funnest places to hang around in? Danger signs were everywhere, but signs didn't count for much in that district. Signs meant to warn people away typically did more attracting then repelling. Defeats the whole purpose if you really think about it, but at least the locals know where the most dangerous places to party were, and that's the most important thing.

Hwoarang stepped inside the condemned theatre. Smashed beer bottles, spray paint cans, used condoms, and a million other unthinkable things littered the dirty wooden planks. He made his way down the rows of broken, grimy seats, lighting a joint as he walked. It was five minutes to ten, so he figured he had a few minutes to wait before his rival arrived and found him. Hopefully he'd have enough time to finish the joint in peace.

Easier thought then done. As he made it halfway down the red-carpeted path, a man stepped out onto the stage from backstage. Jin Kazama was early. Hwoarang stopped mid-stride and exhaled a cloud of smoke as he casually returned his rival's quizzical gaze.

Hwoarang walked leisurely to the stage and climbed up. It was rather nice to finally have Jin Kazama's full attention without the typical tolerant expression he had been used to. He didn't want to be tolerated. He wanted to be wanted. Important. Even though he had made his presence somewhat of a nuisance. "Now what is it you want to talk to me about?" He asked as if he hadn't a clue.

"I want to talk about you," Jin answered calmly, "Actually, I do not want to talk at all. I want to listen to you explaining what was going on last month. I know I asked you to leave me alone, but that's the kind of thing that gets a guy paranoid."

The Korean nodded, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"That's not an explanation." Jin crossed his muscular arms over his chest, "That's an apology. Though I appreciate the effort, I did not ask for an apology."

"Alright. Ok…" Hwoarang sat down on the edge of the stage, trying to decide what lie to tell his rival. It was difficult, but he thought of one, "I guess I went a little crazy. I suppose I got a bit angry at your dad and went to take it out on you, but things didn't go the way I had planned, and then I kissed you. Maybe I was just looking for something stupid to do. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking."

Jin sat down on the edge several feet away from the Blood Talon. He looked down at his feet and then back at his rival, having trouble deciding what to ask first. Finally he made a decision, "My father? What did he do?"

"Same thing he did last night," Hwoarang lied. He considered Jin for a moment before peeling off his shirt to reveal the wounds he acquired in the fight against the Egyptian. "It's nothing serious. It just pisses me off sometimes."

"Why did he do that to you?"

Hwoarang shrugged and took a long shaky dreg of his joint, absently. The memories of his first encounter with the devil were haunting him. It didn't seem right. It had been too easy to get rid of Kazuya the previous night. "It was more the devil in him. Hell, I could fuck up your old man… Now is that all you wanted to talk about? I gave you the best explanation I can, so are we finished?"

There was hesitation, "Yeah… we are."

The Korean could sense the uncertainty, and had to fight against smirking at it. It could work to his advantage, right? "Fuck, Kazama. With a tone like that, I don't know what I should be doing right now. Do you want me to stay or not?"

Jin bit his lip and looked back down at his feet, "I don't know…"

"Well I don't have the time to just sit around and wait for you to make up your mind," The Korean hopped off the stage and started down the red carpet, "When you do make a decision, have your people call my people."

Jin's mouth opened to speak, but his voice didn't follow. He frowned and slid off the stage. Why did he always have to be the honest one? As he was about to run after his rival, his shoe got snagged in the carpet, and sent him falling hard on his hands and knees. Talk about embarrassing. The Japanese man looked up to see his rival grinning down at him.

"Wow you're graceful," Hwoarang laughed as he helped Jin to his feet.

It was a difficult thing to do, but something had to be done. Jin grabbed the back of Hwoarang's neck and pulled him into a determined kiss. Of course, the Korean kissed back immediately as if he had expected it. As if he was the one who initiated it. Although, in some senses, he was.

Hwoarang put his hands around his rival's waist, and pulled the muscular man closer as he broke from the kiss. He showered Jin with a series of teasing kisses, leading from the corner of the lush Japanese mouth, to just below his ear. The seductive trail sent chills down Jin's spine. He didn't know how to react to the situation, but his hands automatically found the fiery silken hair.

Jin felt himself being eased back into a sitting position on one of the broken, but cushioned, seats. Korean lips continued the trail down his neck as experienced fingers unzipped the jacket, and pulled off the shirt underneath with it. He gently ran his hand along the firm body before him, and continued his trail of kisses lower.

A purple ghastly glow engulfed the unsuspecting Jin. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly looking incredibly pained. Something bad was happening. Jin tensed dramatically and began to breath deeply as he clutched at the seat beneath him. He hissed with every unstable intake of breath.

Cruel laughter alerted Hwoarang to their guest. He looked over his shoulder and got to his feet. It took him a few seconds to realize what was happening. The Korean glanced down at his rival before running at the newcomer, and tackling him to the filthy floor. He got back to his feet and glared down at his former lover, "Get up, you bastard."

Kazuya's eyes were glowing, signifying the devil's presence. The battle was in Devil's favour, but Hwoarang was intent on going down with a fight. He wouldn't cower when his rival was in the room, so he attacked once Kazuya got to his feet with a simple right heel lance. He lifted his leg into his flamingo stance, catching the devil's eye before stepping down to turn around and sweep his other up to connect with Kazuya's chest.

The powerful blow took the devil by surprise and sent it flying back into some seats, breaking them even further. It wasn't often someone actually put up a good fight, and for that reason, and that reason only, it acquired some respect for the Blood Talon. It smiled as it got back up, its skin became a dark purple, and wings came out of its back. Not a pretty sight.

Hwoarang cursed himself once again for going to meet with Jin, but he knew it wasn't something he could take back. A sneaker came at him in a spin kick, but he blocked it a little too easy, gaining confidence, only to watch the man continue spinning. Hwoarang prepared to block again, but the impact came lower then he suspected and he was swept off his feet. The devil smirked and hit him with a low kick before he could get back up, getting him in a rib.

The Korean bit back the pain and sprang to his feet. Missing a beat would cost the fight, and possibly his rival's life. He grabbed Devil's left wrist with his right hand, and turned into the creature so that his back was against its chest. He pushed back the Devil's leg with his own, and flipped it forward over his shoulder. Hwoarang smirked back as he brought his heel down on it.

It growled and rolled backwards to its feet. It hadn't expected quite a resistance from the Blood Talon, and Kazuya was already wanting to get out of there, trying to pull back control over his body. Devil leaped into the air and flew over the Korean's head, unleashing two surging beams from its eyes. Once it was satisfied that its attack hadn't been dodged, it flew out through and already weakened wall. Peaces of drywall and woodchips rained down on the stage, painting an almost beautiful picture. Now that was Art.

Hwoarang cried out as he fell to his knees. Bluish electricity visibly surrounded his body as it assaulted his organs and muscles. Luckily, it didn't last long enough to do any serious damage, but his muscles continued jumping and convulsing long after. His eyebrows and tips of his hair were slightly singed, but it didn't matter at that moment. What mattered was that he survived it.

The Korean finally was able to get to his feet and walk, wobbly, over to his rival. Jin wasn't moving. Damn. Hwoarang didn't bother checking for a pulse because he could see the other man breathing. Instead, he hauled the limp body over his shoulder, falling back to his knees under the weight. Hwoarang swore loudly as he strained his legs to push himself back up.

As he staggered out of the theatre, his mind was already searching for a lie to tell Julia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's going on?" Were the first words out of Julia's mouth as she watched Hwoarang step through the door, carrying his rival. There was no, 'Are you Ok?' or any other inquiries about her boyfriend's well-being. No. She knew him well enough that if he was hurt, he must have done something he shouldn't have. He probably provoked a wrong crowd, but the presence of Jin made her even more curious. The young Kazama;s unconsciousness only made her weary of the answer she called for.

Hwoarang dumped the body in the bed in the next room, then came directly back out, cracking his neck. He fell to the couch with a deep, tired sigh that quickly turned into a yawn. A lie was easy to come up with, but the problem was delivering it without sounding rehearsed or just plain phony.

"Why aren't either of you wearing shirts?" Julia questioned.

The Korean looked over at her and answered lazily, "Last night we planned to meet up to fight, and so that's what we did. We fought."

Julia frowned, "Don't tell me you did that to him."

"I wish," Hwoarang laughed, "If I had I wouldn't have carried him all the way here. We were attacked before we even really started fighting. Kazuya, or that devil thing, or whatever the hell he is… Did something really weird to Kazama, so I fought the thing off. You're gonna have to take care of him. I ain't touching him again, unless if its to kick his pansy ass."

Julia smiled and hugged Hwoarang, "I can't believe you saved your rival's life. I'm so proud of you."

"Don't get the wrong idea. I only 'saved' him so that I could be the one to do him in."

TBC…….

A/N: OH! One more thing… I'm planning on bringing another character into the mix. No not another lover for Hwoarang, but someone… like a bad guy sort of thing that can screw everything up for our darling blood Talon. Give me some suggestions! I need all the help I can get! I mean… Erm… Ah… Help me.


	4. Profit From The Pain

A/N: The new character won't be introduced until the next chapter. (Assuming fanfic.net allows me to view my new reviews some time this year.) I hope this one is good. I tried!

**Disclaimer** See chapter… Two.

Crossfire

Chapter Four

Profit From The Pain

"You're gonna fucking pay," The furious Korean whispered as he headed out the door.

It was 7 am. Julia was sleeping in, and Jin hadn't woken up yet. It was better that way. Hwoarang didn't want anyone to decide to stop him from going after Kazuya. He had been betrayed before, but for some reason it had never hurt so bad in the past. It felt even worse then telling Kazuya to stay out of his life. Why were these things happening? 

Where would Kazuya go? It occurred to the Korean how little he knew about his former lover. Their short relationship had been just physical. How would he find him? The one thing he did know was that Kazuya liked fighting, so naturally, he decided to head to one of the dojo's that were hidden away from prying eyes. Somehow he doubted the Japanese Devil would hang downtown where anybody could watch.

Of course, before Hwoarang could go anywhere, he had to remember where his parking spot was. He was never good at remembering numbers and he didn't use his bike all that much because Julia normally preferred public transportation. Something about saving the O-zone and global warming. It was C9  or 9C… Or was it 3K?

Hwoarang eventually found the bike and sped to the dojo, almost hitting a dog or two. As he climbed off the bike, he suddenly realized that Kazuya was probably sleeping in a hotel somewhere. It was, after all, still morning. Of course, in a few seconds, he realized that he had parked next to the exact rental Honda that he had been driving around in a month ago. Talk about clueless.

The embarrassment didn't last long. It was soon replaced by anxiety, fear, and melancholy. Such feelings posed another question: What did he plan on doing once he found Kazuya? Lecture him on family values, and how fathers are supposed to love their sons, not try to kill them. Or would he fight him again? It didn't matter either way. He was there and he wasn't about to wimp out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Betrayal, disappointment, animosity… Jin wasn't exactly sure what it was that he was feeling. When he was little, he used to fantasize about what kind of man his father was. He'd make up stories, and he'd write them down. He'd let his mother read them and she'd always smile, but he could always see the sadness behind that smile. Of course, he thought the sadness was just because she missed his father, he never imagined that this was the reality. His father was a devil, and that devil wanted him dead. It was all the same though, because now that he knew the truth, he wanted his father dead.

The clock by the bed read 7:15 am. It was a strange room. One he had never been in before. There wasn't much question as to whose it was, though, judging by the motorhead posters. Did that mean Hwoarang won? He must of, since Jin was still alive. Hwoarang actually saved him from his father? Who would have thought the Blood Talon would put his life on the line for someone else, let alone his rival.

Jin stretched and pushed the covers aside. He made a mental note to thank his rival later, but for now he had to figure out how to get to work from there. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and curled his bare toes on the cold vinyl flooring. Everything in that room was cheap. Even the bedside table looked like it was made out of driftwood. How could anybody live like that? But he supposed Hwoarang had lived in worse places.

He was still wearing his pants, and didn't know what happened to his shirt or Jacket, so he headed right out of the room for lack of any better ideas. He had no desire to flaunt his body to whoever was there, but unless he decided to walk around in a sheet cocoon, there wasn't much of a choice. And sheet cocoons did nothing for him. So he continued on topless, walking quickly in order to avoid contact with the cold floor for too long.

Julia Chang was digging through a broom closet, frantically looking for something. As soon as she heard footsteps behind her, she spun around and pouted at Jin, "I think he went after Mishima, Kazuya. I'm going after him as soon as I find my shoes."

That wasn't very promising. Why would Hwoarang do that? Jin looked around and said, "… I'll go after him." He spotted his shoes by the door and quickly pulled them on.

Before he could reach for the doorknob, Julia grabbed his arm to stop him. She reached inside the closet and pulled out a black hooded fleece with 'Bouzyaku Buzin' written sloppily in red on the back. "Don't want anyone recognising you," Julia stated.

Jin looked at it with uncertainty for a moment, having doubts that anything of Hwoarang's would fit him, but he tried it on anyway. Luckily, it did fit. It was a little tight, but it still got the job done. He briefly thanked her and headed out, looking for a cab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had never been so difficult to just simply open a door before. The Korean had never had so many mixed emotions. In fact he rarely let his emotions get the best of him unless it was anger. He had a gift for changing whatever he was feeling into anger, but it wasn't so easy this time. He just felt so betrayed and used, and foolish.

Finally, he mustered up the guts and stepped inside. Kazuya sat cross-legged in the centre of the room, unbothered by his visitor. He smiled up at the redhead and spoke in an amused tone of voice, "I was wondering when you were going to come in. Would you like some tea?"

Hwoarang circled around the older man, watching him with a vicious glare, "You lied to me, and then you followed me, which was another lie, and then you fucked him up before I could at least get off," he stopped behind the man, "You arrogant prick."

"I doubt my son could have provided you with what you want. I did you a favour. As for the lies, I only did what you would have done. How many lies have you told in the past week? How many times have you betrayed Julia?" Kazuya stood and continued, "You intrigue me, Hwoa-kun. You're a contradiction. You're a frightened needy child, and a tough, bad-ass street punk at the same time. It's interesting, yet sad."

The Korean rolled his eyes, "Am I going to have to pay for this session, doc? Or would you kindly shut the fuck up?"

Kazuya smiled and backed Hwoarang into a wall. His eyes studied the Korean features, imprinting them in his head so he'd never forget. He did feel horrible about using the boy, but he wouldn't admit it. "Hwoa-kun…" He put his hands on either side of the younger man's body, and bowed his head, "If it will please you to hit me, you have my permission. I will not fight back."

Hwoarang held his breath, feeling his face heat up with this sudden closeness. The sudden emotion emanating from his rival's father. He cupped the Japanese jaw in his hand, and lifted Kazuya's face, so he could look him in the eye. What he seen was unexpected, yet wanted. In Kazuya's eyes, Hwoarang seen genuine passion, and care, and something else, almost apologetic. He wanted to hate the possessed Mishima, but it was just so hard. Not with him so close…

"Fuck you," Hwoarang growled quietly, shoving Kazuya away. 

His eyes lit up with hostility as he delivered an angry blow to the older man's face. At least he knew there was no lie involved. The Japanese didn't fight back, he just stood there, holding the side of his face, waiting for another blow. Hwoarang grabbed the man, pulled him over his head as he fell into a backwards summersault and ended up in a position on top of the older man, set up for what was normally his 'roll and choke' move, but he made no move to finish it. He looked down at the man underneath him and licked the blood off the Japanese bottom lip. 

A stray lock of ebony hair fell down into Kazuya's face. Hwoarang frowned and pushed it aside. "You must understand something, Mishima-sama… I don't want to want you. I don't want anything to do with you. I want to hate you… But for some twisted reason, things don't go the way I plan, and I end up wanting you anyway. I end up… betraying myself, betraying Julia, and betraying your own son. That is why I wanted you to stay the fuck out of my life."

"Wanted?" Kazuya inquired.

Hwoarang got up and punched a wall, "Is that the only thing you heard me say?"

Kazuya rolled his eyes, "I heard every word that came out of that beautiful mouth of yours. I just would rather… delve into other subjects. I know what you say you want, but I also know that you are a drama queen and are making a mountain out of a molehill. Hwoa-kun, you know just as well as I do, that if you leave right now, you will live in regret for months, if not longer. However, if you stay, and take what you want, you'll betray all these people, and you'll feel guilty for months, but I doubt you'll regret it. So, what have you got to lose?"

"My sanity for starters," Hwoarang replied quietly, feeling himself gravitating to the other man. "And I ain't no queen."

Kazuya laughed lightly as he got to his feet. The gravitation was mutual, but it was one who ignited the initial contact. Hwoarang stepped forward and pushed his hand through Kazyuya's hair as he pressed himself against him. There lips met in a sensual kiss, drawing them even closer, despite the near impossibility of it. Two heated tongues teased each other feverishly. How could such cruel lips feel so soft? So… Beautiful?

Kazuya removed his own shirt and unbuttoned the Korean's jeans. Their eye met for a split second before Kazuya grasped the back of Hwoarang's thighs, lifted him up, and pushed him against the wall. Upon the impact, Hwoarang laughed against the older man's mouth. It was amazing what Kazuya could do to him. All the vulnerable positions the man has witnessed. Hwoarang felt almost like Kazuya owned a part of his soul, and what bothered him was that he liked it that way.

It was risky getting so friendly in a public place, but it wasn't a popular dojo so neither of them were worried. If any locals did come, they'd probably just see the scene and turn right around again. They couldn't care less if some stranger walked in on it.

Hwoarang hooked his legs behind the older man's knees, and yanked, sending Kazuya falling to the dull wooden floor. Glad to finally be on top, the Korean kicked off his pants and admired the beauty in his grasp. All the scars just made the Japanese man more desirable. The abused, mistreated appearance only made the Korean want to get closer. But being close to someone seemed to be a foreign concept.

They kissed again, but this time the connection of their lips was short lived. Hwoarang moved his mouth down over the curve of Kazuya's jaw, down past the neck, and to the chest. Each tiny kiss involved a playful suck, and the Korean breath on the sensitive flesh of his chest, tickled his nerves. Hwoarang lingered at the huge scar decorating the Japanese flesh. He had heard stories about it and never really had the chance to feel it, to taste it. Kazuya rose his chest into the kiss as if his young companion possessed healing powers.

Hwoarang spotted someone step into the doorway from the corner of his eye. He wanted to ignore it but when Kazuya tensed under him, he looked up. "Oh shit," he breathed.

Jin Kazama glared at his rival for a moment before turning and heading right back out again. Well, things didn't exactly go the way they were planned. Maybe they would have if Hwoarang had stuck to the original plan from the beginning. It was all Kazuya's fault.

Hwoarang scrambled to his feet and frantically pulled his tight jeans over his plain black boxers, hopping from foot to foot as he did so, and ignoring the strange quizzical look he was getting from the older man. Why was he so determined not to let his rival go? He hated Jin, and he hated Kazuya, yet he wanted them both. Of course the younger Japanese man posed more of a mystery, which offered some reason as to why he wanted him but there was no explanation for the older of the two.

"Wait!" Hwoarang ran out of the dojo after Jin, insisting, "Jin, let me explain!"

The piceous-headed man turned to his pursuer, and crossed his arms, "Go ahead. Give it a shot."

"I… I went to go kick his ass," Hwoarang started, hugging himself self-consciously, "for what he tried to do last night, and when I found him, I started doing just that. But something happened. I wasn't thinking straight… I'm sorry."

Jin laughed bitterly and shook his head, "Sorry? No you're not Hwoarang," He sighed and looked away, "You know, you should really learn to control your lies. One of these days they're going to come back and bite you in the ass."

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes. His face heated up to a dark pink. "It already fucking has!" He growled loudly at his rival, "You think I'm lying? You think I really want to do that shit with a fucking sadist rapist bastard? Wow. You really think highly of me, don't you?"

"… Who has he raped?" Jin's eyes rose to study the Korean's face carefully.

"Uh, I don't know," Hwoarang stammered, caught off-guard. He didn't even realize he said that until he heard Jin say it. "It was just an insult I threw in there," He made a lame attempt at damage control, "Ok Jin, I should go home. You're right though. I will stop lying to you. See ya next tournament."

Jin grabbed Hwoarang's arm before the man could walk away, "What did he do to you?"

"I… Jin, go away."

"No."

The anger at Jin's insistance, and the recurring vision of last months happenings was building up inside the distressed Korean like a stick of lit dynamite. He glared at his rival, suddenly wanting to be alone. Just wanting to curl up in a corner and ram his head into a wall until the world stopped hurting. "Since I'm all about honesty now, I might as well tell you the truth about why I kissed you last month." He jerked his arm away, "I did it for your dad. He was nearby watching, waiting for me to get your guard down. I failed, so I came back for you a month later just to see if I could seduce my own rival." 

Jin stared, shocked and silent, so Hwoarang asked, "How does it feel to be used? How does it feel to be meaningless when you had thought otherwise? How does deceit feel, Jin?"

Finally the young Japanese man spoke, "… I don't feel deceived. I hadn't believed your original story in the first place. But if what would have happened last night was so meaningless, why did you save me from him? Why did you risk your life to save me?"

Hwoarang looked down, his jaw set angrily, "Get the fuck lost, Kazama."

"What did he do to you?"

"Fine," Hwoarang snapped quietly, "I'll leave," and shoved the concerned man out of his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was nice and cool. Very sobering. Whores and junkies lined the street, off in their own worlds. It was the perfect place for anonymity. A whore went down on a business man in a shadowy corner, but it was only noon so anybody who cared to look would see everything. Luckily, nobody did care enough to look. A couple thugs beat on each other murderously, but people just turned there heads and walked by as if they didn't even exist. It was the perfect sanctuary for the disturbed. 

A young preteen whore eyed the redheaded Korean and called after him in Japanese. He waved his hand dismissively as he continued on past the happy business man, and past a few more whores offering there services. He spotted a vacant shadowy area and quickly claimed it, but it was in a nook of a building so he wouldn't be able to see the street clearly. It didn't matter, though. He didn't come for the view. 

As Hwoarang leaned against the filthy wall, he pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket, and flipped it open. It wasn't as cool in the nook, and for that he was thankful. Because he forgot his shirt at the dojo, and he had nowhere else to go. Nowhere to be alone. To be anonymous. There was so much to think about, but he wasn't ready to lose anybody. In a way, disappearing for a day was a subtle way to keep all three hanging on to him.

He sighed and started carving his chest with the knife. He hissed with pain as he worked but he did not slow. Hwoarang carefully carved out a bloody adaptation of Kazuya's scar. It hurt like hell, but he reveled in it. It was a great relief. A delicious escape from his panicked thoughts. An escape from the reality of the situation he had trapped himself in.

The blood trickled down his firm stomach, tickling through the stinging pain and staining his skin. He let his head drop back against the wall and sighed. It was nice not worrying about what to do, and just lie there in filth and blood relaxing. He dabbed the corner of his fresh wound with his thumb, bringing it up to his face to look at it. He studied the smear of blood as if he had never seen any before. 

"My beautiful human."

Hwoarang watched his former lover step into the nook. He was too phased by the pain to care about the red eyes. As long as he was in his world of filth, nothing could frighten him. Not even desire. Although he was aware enough to wish Kazuya could tone down the eyes a bit. He didn't want to draw any attention. Even the people around here would notice a demon in there midst, and they may not like it too much.

The Japanese devil stepped closer and eyed the artistic imitation of its scar. It smiled and crossed its arms, "That's exactly how it looked 40 years ago. He was a stubborn child. Climbed that cliff with the grace of a cat and the strength of an ox. What I can't understand is why he went back home to his father after that. Humans are funny that way. Would you have gone back?"

"I would have died," Hwoarang pointed out quietly.

"Perhaps," The devil sighed, gazing curiously at the redhead. "Kazuya didn't much like being called a 'sadist, rapist bastard', though I found it rather amusing for a number of reasons. Firstly, you need sadism. You crave it, yet you said it as if it were a bad thing. Secondly, it was I who raped you, not him. Thirdly, unlike you, Kazuya was born with a father."

The Korean rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "Well I'm glad you cleared that up for me. Now are you finished? I would like to be alone. There's a little more bleeding to accomplish."

Devil took Hwoarang's hand in its own and drew the blood smeared thumb into its mouth, sucking it reasonably clean, and all the while, keeping its eyes locked with the Korean's. "Alone?" It kissed the tip of the digit, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Hwoarang watched through half-lidded eyes. "No," He whispered, "I want you."

A subtle smirk crept upon its face, "I think you meant that you want Kazuya. You hate me, remember?"

"If I want Kazuya," The Korean growled, "I will specify. Now if you're only going to tease me, go away. I've got more injuries to inflict upon myself. Oh and you wouldn't by any chance have my shirt, would you?"

Devil smiled and gingerly kissed the corner of Hwoarang's mouth. Once satisfied that there would be no objection, it lowered itself down the Korean body and slowly licked the fresh wound. Since the blood was still flowing, the blood that was cleared away was soon replaced by more. The red thick substance seeped over the devil's tongue and crawled down its throat.

Hwoarang shivered because of the tongue grazing his broken flesh and the amazing chill of the demon's breath. He never dreamed he'd allow something like that to happen, but the more it hurt, the less he cared. The more the devil touched him, the more he wanted it. And even though he was already regretting every second of it, the quiet moan escaping his lips signified his refusal to stop it.

"You shouldn't wear shirts anyway. They only hide your beautiful skin and I like looking at you. Every part of you," Devil said, rising a few inches to drink from the mortal's mouth, "You look much better in the nude, my beautiful human." It smirked against the Korean's mouth, "I would love to burn your clothes."

Hwoarang laughed and rubbed his pelvis against the demon's, playfully. "You're fucking crazy."

"Yes, but so are you." The devil unbuttoned the Korean's jeans and pushed them down. "I'd suggest a more private place but I do not want to give you a chance to change your mind."

The smile Hwoarang gave was enough to make the devil's pants become uncomfortably tight, and demons weren't easily excited. How could an annoying street punk be so flawlessly beautiful? Did everybody see Hwoarang that way? They must… No. There was one person who didn't but she would be dealt with later. For now its world consisted of the Blood Talon alone.

"Can't get more private then this, anyway." His smile fell and he nudged the demon's jaw with his nose, "It's times like this when I wish my boxers were a size larger… You know, I still don't know what to call you. What am I supposed to scream?"

The devil removed its own shirt and stole another kiss. "Bob," It purred against Hwoarang's lips, "Judy. Hiro. I don't know."

Hwoarang closed his eyes, and ran his hand along the perfect muscular chest before him. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You don't have a name?"

"Name me."

The Korean laughed lightly and nipped at the demon's bottom lip. He stepped out of the pants that were already down to his ankles, and hungrily sucked at the devil's neck. It was strange to hear a devil moan, but the Korean sucked harder just to hear the noise again. It sounded so blissful. So angelic. Hwoarang smirked as he felt his boxers fall down his legs to the dirty ground, releasing him from the prison of cotton.

Hwoarang went to work on freeing his companion and looked up into those hungry red eyes as if they were the most intoxicating sight there was. And to him, they were. "Zekkai."

"I love it."

The Korean grinned and stuck his own fingers in his mouth, drawing a confused expression from the demon. Hwoarang pushed down on the devil's boxer-briefs with his free hand. He smoothly flashed that bullet-stopping smile and slipped his wet fingers around to the rear of his companion, teasing the tight entrance. Once the demon pressed back into the fingers, desperately, Hwoarang eased a finger inside, and carefully loosened the muscle. He considered diving right in just for some moderate revenge, but figured he didn't want to pick that kind of bone with a bigger, demonic dog. At least not yet.

Devil gasped and cursed under its chilling breath. The only reason it started the situation was to mock its host, but within minutes the plans had altered. The demon had quickly grown quite fond of the Korean, and wished there was a way to be completely alone with him, without Kazuya watching.

Hwoarang took his finger back and pulled his jeans on. Once he seen the disappointed look he was getting, he winked and elaborated, "I know a cleaner place we can go, where there won't be the possibility of a whore jumping in to join us. Come."

TBC…


	5. Loneliness Is Worse

A/N: Ok, Hwoarang gets a little OOC near the end of this chapter, and I'm sorry, but I'm too lazy to fix it. Oh and I was going to introduce a new Character in this chap but I changed my mind, and decided to give the new character a whole chappie for themselves… As soon as I figure out who I want the new char to be. See that's the fun of not planning. Even the author gets surprises!

**Disclaimer** Tekken is owned by Namco and not me. I just manipulate the characters for entertainment purposes.

Crossfire

Chapter Five

If she had only listened. If she had only backed off and trusted that he wasn't doing anything wrong. If she had done all those things that were asked of her, would it have come to this? Would they be on a landslide to certain destruction if things were right to begin with? She killed the magic. Sucked the life out. It wasn't supposed to be that way. So when would it end? When would she find out the truth and leave him? When would the demon that haunted him grow bored, and find some other beautiful human to fuck with? When would the world fall apart? It was so close. So very close. All it needed was a little shove. 

Nothing good was on TV. Hwoarang sat upside down on the couch, with his head hanging off and his feet up against the wall. A harmonica was in his mouth and he was breathing a bluesy tune through it. Julia didn't like his guitar so he kept it at a friend's. The harmonica was just as well, but it was hard to play a good old-fashioned rock song on it, so he stuck with blues. It suited his mood better anyway, especially with his blood rushing to his head like that.

The channel was a music station and there was a teeny bopper band on with eleven members. Of course the volume was on mute, but still he watched them, wondering what a bunch of privileged adolescents would have to talk about during all those months of being on the road together. Gardening? Health? School? Or maybe they'd just make out and grope each other the whole time. Hwoarang grinned at the idea and considered joining a pop band. That was one way to make Julia proud.

The sound of a door opening caught the Korean's attention, but not enough to make him get up. He blew loudly into his instrament in order to greet the newcomer with the most irritating noise he could create with that thing. As usual, the attempt worked. Success was obvious in the annoyed sigh that resulted. That sigh was so familiar, and so easy to get from the American woman, not to mention fun.

"We have a visitor, honey," Julia announced as she came around the corner.

It was an unexpected surprise. As Jin stepped into the room behind Julia, he tilted his head and quirked a brow at the upside down Korean. Hwoarang's eyes widened and he rolled off the couch, and to his feet. What was Jin thinking? Oh well. Baek Doo San had taught him the joys of improvisation, and that was the perfect chance to put those skills to good use.

Hwoarang glared at Jin, "Julia, what the fuck has gotten into you, bringing this demonic bastard into my home? I hope you don't expect him to stay for dinner."

"Well… I… He… Hwoarang! He just came in to see if you were ok. He said he was concerned that something happened to you. Don't be so rude!"

"Rude?" Hwoarang laughed bitterly, "Now why on earth would I be rude to my fucking rival? What do you take me for? Some sort of punk-assed Korean rocker?" He rolled his eyes and nodded toward the kitchen, "I would like to speak with you alone for a moment, 'honey'."

Jin stepped back awkwardly, "Uh, maybe I should go."

"I don't think so, pal. You ain't getting away that easy. I'll deal with you when I'm finished with her," Hwoarang growled as he ushered his girlfriend through the door, and shut it behind them. It wasn't so easy thinking up something to say now that he had her alone, but it wasn't impossible. "Why are you so bent up on making me friends?"

Julia pouted, obviously feeling bad. Julia Chang didn't pout often. "I thought it was sweet of him to worry about you, and after he went through all that trouble to try to help you yesterday, I thought he at least deserved to be let in out of the cold. I'm sorry."

She wasn't making it any easier.

Hwoarang crossed his arms and leaned against the fridge. "This has got to stop Julia. I know you know better. I know you know that I hate that man, and yet you still insist on trying to make us hug and make up. He ruined my life! I don't give a flying rats ass what he's worried about. I want that man dead, and I want his blood on my hands. If you don't like that, suck it up."

"That's a horrible thing to say, Hwoarang. I want you to go out there and apologise to him, right now."

"What the fuck is that? An order? I don't take orders from you. Quit trying to fucking mother me. Yes ok I'm crude, and annoying street trash, but that's who I fucking am. How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to make me better. I'd rather skin myself with an orange peeler then become the kind of man you want me to be, so give it the fuck up, or get out. Do you understand me?"

Julia stared at him in shock, "I'm not trying to change you, I'm trying to make you see your full potential. I want you to be happy."

"I'm happy the way I am."

"But you could be so much more."

Hwoarang shook his head, "That's it. Get out. Now."

She opened her mouth to protest, but it only came out as a squeak as she choked back tears. Without another word, she spun around and ran out the door. Hwoarang listened in silence until he heard his front door slam, and then he hopped on the table and laid down, bringing the harmonica back to his mouth. Success #2! He was on a roll.

The kitchen door opened and Jin walked in, troubled. He listened for a few moments to the tune the redhead was playing, but eventually spoke, "What did you say to her? You're ok with the way she ran out like that? What if she doesn't come back?"

Hwoarang snorted and tossed the harmonica at Jin, "Julia? Not come back? You're a funny guy, Kazama. No. She'll be back. She doesn't give up on her projects that easily. I know I can hardly compare to one of her trees, but I still seem to be in need of her green thumb. So… You hungry? We got some crap in the cupboards somewhere… I think there's some strawberry chocolate sticks in one of those mushroom jar things. She says those mushrooms remind her of a garden, but I think she's a stoner at heart."

"I thought you were going to deal with me. I half expected that I'd be the next one to run out of here in tears."

"No, you'll be limping," Hwoarang winked.

Jin sat down and looked at the Korean, quizzically, "Aren't you mad at me? You seemed pretty pissed off when you left the dojo yesterday."

Hwoarang sat up and shrugged, "As long as you don't ask stupid questions, I'm cool. Now let's see…" He turned and slid to the edge of the table so that Jin was between his legs. "Where did we leave off the other day?"

A nervous look was presented o the Japanese features. Obviously Jin wasn't comfortable with his rival so close to him. He tried his best not to allow his eyes to go where they wanted to, but it was hard with the Korean right there, legs open. It was frustrating yet extremely embarrassing. Jin was almost positive his face had turned at least 5 shades brighter.

"What's wrong?" Hwoarang smirked, knowing exactly what the problem was, "Why are you being so shy, baby? I know you want me. Just admit it so we can get to the fun part, already."

Jin glared up at him, "Should you be talking like that? What if Julia comes back?"

"Pffft," The Korean rolled his eyes, "I've been telling her since we started going out that I've been cheating on her, so its not like I've been lieing. She just doesn't believe me."

"I'm serious, Hwoarang."

"You wanna touch it," the redhead teased.

Jin stood up, "You're so full of yourself."

"I bet you wanna be full of me too."

"Stop it," The young Japanese warned, "This isn't funny."

"Yes it is."

A threatening silence responded instead of words, but of course, the attempt at intimidation was much less effective when he was blushing. Jin tried to look angry, but he was never very good at faking anger, and he probably just made himself all the more less convincing. There was one other option. Something he normally avoided, but it was an emergency. Subject change. "I didn't know you played the harmonica."

Hwoarang laughed, "Fuckers cost a quarter in the states. Who can pass up a deal like that? Now get naked."

He'd have to try harder, "Well I think everyone in the world has owned a harmonica, but that doesn't mean they learn how to play it."

The Korean frowned, "Kazama, if you don't want me, all you have to do is say so. It's insulting that you think you can distract me by making me talk about myself. I'm not that arrogant… Well… Ok maybe I am that arrogant normally, but right now I'm a bit… well, you know, so either do or don't. It's your choice, man."

Manipulative little jerk, ain't he? Jin chewed his lip, regretting coming to check on the man. He hadn't expected this to happen. He figured since Julia was there, it was safe, and he could see that his rival was all right, and then get yelled at and then leave. Why couldn't things go the way they were supposed to? Why did that man have to twist everything around, and make things complicated?

"I don't… know how," Jin admitted quietly, turning away from the other man in shame, "I've never done anything like… you… before."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Hwoarang smiled, "You've gotta start somewhere. Now don't worry about it, Jin-kun. You know, despite popular belief, I was not born a sex machine. No. That came years after I was born. Now I'm not here to judge you. Relax."

Jin rubbed his arm nervously, and glanced around the room. He shook his head, bewildered, as he searched his mind for an excuse to get out of the situation. There was only one way. Honesty. "It's not that I don't want you, Hwoarang. It's that I don't trust you. I am aware that you saved my life, and for that I am in your debt, but that still doesn't change that I don't know if I can believe a single thing that comes out of your mouth."

A shrug was what came in response. "I already told you I wouldn't lie to you again. You have my word, and I never lie about my word."

"In that case," Jin turned to face his rival, "Why are you doing this?"

The question came as more then a shock, but Hwoarang hid it well. They locked eyes for a few moments, allowing the silence to thicken. He studied the Japanese coolly. What could he say if he didn't know the answer? Was it safe to avoid the question or would that just anger the man? There was nothing to do but be honest. Damnit! Why did that guy have to ruin everything?

So the truth it was. Hwoarang sighed heavily, not being able to think of a way to manipulate his answer so that it helped his situation. "I don't fucking know, Kazama," He said as he got to his feet, "If anything, I should loathe you. My own girlfriend has been in love with you since before I even got with her, and what's worse is she's been trying to mold me into your clone. There are so many reasons for me to hate you, and I've tried so fucking hard… And now you've ruined it. I'm not horny anymore."

Jin approached the redhead cautiously, stopping only inches away, "Why are you still with her?"

Hwoarang frowned, and wished that he had thought a bit longer before giving his word to his rival. Lesson learned! He shrugged and answered as simply as he could, "Loneliness is worse."

It was a sad admittance, and Jin felt bad for asking. There was one way he could make it up to the neglected Korean. Jin pulled his own shirt off and smiled at the confused eyes roaming his body. Men were so predictable. He stood there on display, waiting for his rival's confusion to be replaced by realization. He didn't have long to wait either. The corner of the Korean's mouth quirked in a faint grin and he licked his lips as if they were parched. Jin would have never guessed that his rival would find him so attractive. But the way Hwoarang responded was almost adorable.

Hwoarang hadn't expected that to happen, but was glad it did. He stepped past Jin and out of the Kitchen. He only paused to give the other man a side-long glance and explain, "There's a lock on my bedroom door. You coming?"

Well, It was no mystery what that Korean's top priority was. 

Jin shook his head, smiling and followed the redhead into the bedroom.

Once the boys were both in the room, the door was closed and locked. The Korean slipped his arms around the bare waist before him and pulled the other man into a wet kiss. He sucked on the lush Japanese bottom lip, running his hands over the firm back. They moved backwards until Hwoarang's legs hit the wooden bed frame. He let himself fall back onto the mattress and he winked at Jin as he pushed himself further on the bed.

Jin crawled on top of his rival, straddling the lean hips, and dipping his head to steal a kiss. It was still difficult to believe that he had tasted his rival's mouth. That man had wanted to beat him into a senseless, submissive pulp not months ago. But he was glad it was at that point because he wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment. It was the first time in a year that he had missed a day of work. A good excuse would have to be thought up later.

When Jin made a move to take of Hwoarang's shirt, the Korean grabbed his wrist to stop him, and shook his head, "No…"

"Why?"

Guilt and fear clouded Hwoarang's face. He looked down at the sheets. When he spoke, his voice was low and barely audible, "Because you'll leave me. You'll hate me. And though I probably don't deserve you, I don't want to lose you before I even have you."

What was he talking about? "I don't understand."

"I…" Hwoarang frowned and took off his shirt, revealing the dried wound on his chest. He sighed and looked up at Jin, "I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence before Jin shook his head. The Japanese did not move from his position on his rival. "When, and if we start dating, I will worry about that. Hwoarang… I care about you, but unless your life is in danger, it is none of my business what you do with your time."

The Korean's frown morphed into a smile and he tossed his shirt across the room. What had he done right to get someone like Jin Kazama on his side? Whatever it was, hopefully he wouldn't screw it up any time soon. "You're amazing." He laughed, "What the hell are you doing wasting your time on a jerk like me?"

"You're not a jerk," Jin smiled back as he stole another kiss, "You're an idiot, but not a jerk." He squeezed Hwoarang's hand, looking down curiously at the wound, "Does it hurt?"

Hwoarang nodded, eyeing his rival's body. Too much talking, too little action. He reached up with his free hand to feel the muscular abs, "Like hell," A quiet laugh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and added, "I like it that way… You feel so good, Kazama. Don't make me wait. I hate waiting. Don't be cruel."

The young Japanese man laughed and bowed to lick his rival's lips. Those delicious lips tasted like some strange exotic fruit that he couldn't get enough of. The fiery hair decorated the black comforter so naturally as if it was the way they were supposed to be. As Jin teased the Korean with his tongue, he blindly removed Hwoarang's typical tight jeans, not having to remove more. It looked like someone was a fan of Commando. The unveiling was a pleasant reality check. If he had trouble believing before, the doubt had deserted him. Hwoarang was within his grasp, and he wasn't entirely sure how to handle such a rare privilege.

Hwoarang tugged clumsily at Jin's slacks until Jin finally removed them. The Korean grinned and snapped the elastic on Jin's boxers. Another obvious hint. The ebony-haired man hesitantly took off his boxers. Hwoarang pit his arms around his rival's neck and hungrily drank from his mouth, absently grinding their bare hips together as the kiss persisted

Jin gasped at the unexpected grinding. It was rather strange. Hwoarang seemed so desperate for the Japanese, acting like an animal in the wild, feeding. So defensive as if expecting something to come and steal its meal. The behaviour was flattering in a way. It was nice to be wanted by a wild animal like The Blood Talon. Although, in another sense, it was sad that Hwoarang would be so instinctively defensive. So Jin had to say something, "I'm not going anywhere."

Hwoarang paused before letting go completely, and covering his eyes with his arms. His chest rose and stopped as if he was holding his breath. Jin couldn't see, but he knew that his rival was fighting back tears. Something was seriously wrong.

"I'm sorry," Hwoarang whispered, swallowing hard.

An apology again? Jin kissed Hwoarang's arm and whispered soothingly, "It's ok… I know it's none of my business, but I'm here for you if you want to let it out."

"It's all falling apart. You might as well leave me now. You're going to eventually, and so is Julia, and so is Kazuya, and so is Zekkai… I've watched enough TV to know that I'll lose everything if I can't make up my mind, but what if I do and I make the wrong decision? I can't. I won't… I'm scared, Jin. I don't want to be alone, and I don't care how much I deserve it."

How long had that been eating at him? Jin sighed and pushed the Korean's arms above the head of red hair, so that he could look him in those glistening eyes. "I've never been a fan of being the other man. Especially if I have to share with my father, but you know you can be without Julia and not be alone. She may be a nice girl, but I don't think your relationship is healthy. I don't understand why you're with her in the first place."

"She says she loves me," Hwoarang said aloud, but mostly to himself. He turned his head to stare blankly out the window as he continued, "But how will I ever know? Certain words grow old."

"Do you love her?"

Hwoarang looked up at Jin, curiously, "Nobody has ever said they love me before. Even if it is a lie…"

Jin repeated himself, "Do you love her?"

"No."

"Do you love Kazuya?" Jin regretted the question the second he voiced it. He feared his rival's answer more then he feared the devil gene itself. What if Hwoarang did love his father? What would he do? How could he react to that?

But Hwoarang shook his head, "No."

"Do you love anybody?"

Hwoarang tilted his head, quizzically, as he studied the other man's face, "If you are trying to help me work out my problems, don't bother. I'm already too far in. I know what kind of things to consider when I try to pick. I don't need anyone's help. I just… wish I had a time machine…"

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	6. Just No Good

A/N: I am sorry, but it may take me awhile to update, because I'm moving. Then again, it may not take me a while. I think we're staying in a hotel or something for a month, so it might take me about that long… Don't forget about me!!!!! I LOOOOOOVE YOU!!!!!! 

Oh yeah, and one more thing before we begin. I am not ignoring you Loukana. I am planning to write up a bit of your request. Perhaps in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer** Tekken is owned by Namco and not me. I just manipulate the characters for entertainment purposes.

Crossfire

Chapter Six

Just No Good

Trees surrounded the area, shielding the entire property from the sun. Everything was under a cloak of shadows, making it look like something out of a horror movie. Memories of the past came with the sight, for they went hand in hand. The beatings, the lies, the fear, the blame… Blame was always there, at the base of everything that ever happened in that house. A woman died 49 years ago, and it was her son who was blamed.

The large windows stared down at Kazuya, beckoning to him. He wouldn't go inside. He was there only to reflect, in order to use his past to gain strength. Use the anger. Use the hate. Use everything he knew his father was to make him angrier. Fuel his resolve. 

Kazuya crossed his arms as he stared back at those dark windows. One of them had been his bedroom, once upon a time. The smallest bedroom in the entire building. He always had the least of everything, with the exception of his father's anger. Anger made the old man sloppy. Kazuya was sure his father had no intention of making him stronger. Hardening his shell. But that's what happened. 

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

The Japanese man turned around, ready to fight. He half expected to see a guard or two, but expectations never did him any good. It wasn't anyone like a guard. It was worse. "Chaolan," He spat, disgusted.

Lee smiled, and looked up at the estate, "As terrifying as ever, I see."

"What would you know about terrifying?" Kazuya growled at his adoptive brother, "Your life there was great up until you chose to betray him. He spoiled you rotten."

Something near to undetectable flashed in Lee's eye, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. It almost looked like some sort of melancholic emotion, but that couldn't be. Lee rolled his eyes as he pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket, and lit it up. "Being a man's favourite comes with its cost. You think I just sided with my jealous brother out of boredom?"

"Jealous?" Kazuya laughed for a moment, before the other man's words finally sunk in, "What kind of cost?"

Lee looked at Kazuya, and shrugged, "Secrets. One hell of a lot of secrets." He took a long drag, and looked away again, "I know perfectly well how much you hate me, dear brother, and of course I hated you too, but I do miss having you around."

Kazuya turned to walk away, "If its money your after, I don't have any."

"Your yen would do me no good in the Bahamas," Lee laughed, "Can't a man tell his brother that he misses him without wanting something in return?"

"You are not my brother," Kazuya snapped, spinning back around, and grabbing the Silver haired man by the throat, "You are my enemy. I hate you. I've always hated you, and I always will. If I never see you again, it will be too soon. I'd be wise to snap your annoying little neck right this minute."

Lee stifled a cough, and grabbed Kazuya's hand, trying to pry the strong fingers off his throat, but not bothering to let go of his cigarette. He spoke, with a raspy strangled voice, "You're right. We are not brothers. And it probably would be wise to snap my neck, but I would rather you didn't. I've got plans for the future, and that would really screw them up."

Kazuya let the man go, and turned back to walk away. There was no need to get the authorities after him for murder quite yet. That charge would be saved for his father. Once he felt the hand grasp his arm to stop him, he balled his hand into fists, and spun around, blue strings of electricity coursing over his arms. What he was met with was more or less what he expected. A pair of soft lips met his. Even softer then the Blood Talons, but not quite as sweet. Immediately, his fists relaxed, as he fell into the kiss.

/What do you think you're doing?\

Of course Kazuya wouldn't reply unless he was alone, so instead he took his childhood enemy into a tighter embrace, partly to spite the demon, and partly to deepen the kiss.

/This one is a conniving little brat. He would never make a good toy.\

Lee spread the kiss down the jaw and to the bigger man's neck. His tongue expertly grazed the man's skin as they stumbled back into the trees. Dainty hands unbuttoned and unzipped the business suit pants and slipped his hand down under the boxer briefs, not bothering to remove any clothing in fear of having to make a quick escape. It was unknown to the Japanese where the cigarette had been lost.

/He moves fast. Do you really want a quickie with a man you hate?\

Kazuya moaned quietly as the man handled him. Lee met Kazuya's lips once more before lowering himself over his enemy's package, and releasing it.

/Don't let him.\

The demon's order was only in vain, for Kazuya had no intention of paying it any mind. He licked his lips, as he felt the soft mouth close over his length. 

/You fool! Do not ignore me!\

Lee teased the tip with his tongue, smiling at his companion's pleasured sigh. 

/Are you forgetting about our toy?\

Kazuya thrust himself desperately into Lee's mouth. Despite there past differences, he was having no problems enjoying that moment. Even if the voice in his head wouldn't shut up. He wanted so much to talk back to it, but didn't dare. 

A wind rustled through the trees, and caressed Kazuya's heated face soothingly. When Lee took him in almost completely to the hilt, he moaned a little louder, having trouble controlling himself. He smirked as Lee almost choked, but of course he was too caught up in the moment to mock the smaller man. It was no longer a matter of pride, so cruel words were no longer needed.

/Oh I see. You're angry with the beautiful human and me for last night. I apologize, Mishima. If only we didn't share a body, we could have shared him.\

The anger grew inside Kazuya. That demon knew exactly what buttons to push to get its way. It was rather irritating, if nothing else. 

But Lee sensed something was wrong, and took that opportunity to suck harder, ridding his adoptive brother of any murderous thoughts. It worked for a number of minutes as Kazuya dug his nails into the bark of the tree behind him, and caught himself almost speaking the Korean redhead's name. Instead he replaced the word on his tongue with a quiet, "Lee…"

The demon was thoroughly amused, and it's taunting laughs shook the forest, though Chaolan didn't seem to have noticed anything. 

/All he did was kiss you and you were putty in his hands. Are you that desperate to get back at our toy?\

What did it matter to that creature? Kazuya was suddenly confused. Wouldn't Devil be the first one to take a chance like that? The first one to leap headfirst in anything that could possible hurt anyone? Why was it so concerned about Hwoarang?

/Do not bother with those silly suspicions. You have bigger things to worry about. Someone's coming.\

"What?" Kazuya almost shouted, leaping up and pushing the startled silver-haired devil away, "Someone's coming."

Lee's brow furrowed as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "How do you know?"

Kazuya did up his pants and glanced around, "You know exactly how I know… Wait. I don't hear anybody. You bastard. Are you trying to trick me?"

"Oh yeah. That thing," Lee sighed, lighting another cigarette.

/I am not trying to trick you. If I were, I would have done so sooner. Some of your father's men will be coming around the corner in less then a minute. I suggest you run.\

"Come on," Kazuya grabbed his adoptive brother by the arm, and took off into the trees, dragging the perplexed man behind him. Just as his inner demon had said, two trucks filled with Tekkenshu came around the bend. Kazuya froze, not wanting to attract any attention from his movement, and whispered a question to his demon, "Where are they going?"

/Just because my hearing is better then yours doesn't mean I'm psychic. Your guess is as good as mine.\

He scowled and turned to Lee, "I… Goodbye."

"Wait," Lee looked around, and bit his lip, "Can I have a number, or are we still on 'I-never-want-to-see-hear-or-speak-of-you-again terms?"

/Don't give it to him.\

"We are still enemies," Kazuya said, taking a step forward, realizing that he was in great pain from the neglect of finishing what they started. "But," he cringed, and gave the other man a slip of paper he fished out of his pocket, "I do not know the number of the hotel, but I know the address. When you're in the mood for a little sparring, don't hesitate to come by."

/You moron.\

Kazuya walked deeper into the trees, heading back to the city. He smirked to himself, enjoying his demon's anger. "Shut up 'Zekkai'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He did what??"

It was 7 pm. Jin had left hours ago to meet up with a friend from work, and Julia hadn't come home yet. Of course, it was nice to have some time alone, but Hwoarang kept worrying about them never coming back. But his Zekkai came back, and that's what was important.

The devil nodded, confirming his news, "Pathetic, isn't it?"

Hwoarang sneered in disgust, "You fucked your brother, Kazuya, you sick bastard."

Devil shrugged and touched the redhead's cheek, "It's a pity. He has no self-respect. I believe he did it out of jealousy. He didn't much like our encounter last night."

Hwoarang shook his head and shuddered, "He could have got back at us without fucking his brother! Chaolan is not the only attractive man in Japan!" He laughed bitterly and spread his arms to make room for suggestion, "Hell, since he's such a family man, he can come with me tomorrow and we'll both have a go at his son… Goddamn it! I may be a slut but even I find that shit disturbing!"

In seconds, the red eyes faded and Kazuya lunged at the Korean, slamming him against the wall, knocking the breath right out of him. He practically snarled at the lippy Korean punk. It was more defensive then offensive, but he still tried to make it painful for he boy. Nobody spoke about him that way. Nobody.

He backhanded Hwoarang. "Now listen you little twerp," He said in a low venomous voice, "He is not my brother. Father didn't adopt him until he was 12. And furthermore, I did not fuck him, nor was it the other way around. If anyone here is a sick bastard, it's you. Your little Zekkai isn't even human! And he sure as hell doesn't give a shit about you. None of the fools you go to give a shit about you and so we shouldn't, you sick fuck."

Hwoarang kneed the older man in the stomach, and sidestepped once released, He grabbed Kazuya's arm and lifted his leg, placing his boot against Kazuya's face, "Make a move and it will be your last, asshole."

"You can't stay on one leg forever."

"Karate isn't the only art that teaches balance."

Kazuya rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me you're a ballerina too."

The door opened and in walked Julia. The distraction wasn't enough to bother the Korean. He remained focused on his captive, even through his girlfriend's surprised gasp. Kazuya smirked and opened his mouth to say something to the newcomer, but Hwoarang pulled his foot back and kicked the man in the back of the head, hard enough to knock the man out, and possible cause whiplash. But not enough to hurt him any further.

Julia watched as Kazuya's body slumped to the floor like a discarded rag doll. It wasn't the type of situation she had expected to come home to, but at least her boyfriend wasn't hurt. She rushed to the Korean's side, and frowned, not knowing what to ask without angering him.

"Are you alright?"

Hwoarang looked down at the body and nodded, afraid that his voice would crack if he attempted to speak, the cruel words of his former lover replayed over and over in his head. He wished Kazuya had beat him into the ground instead of saying those things. It hurt. And he knew exactly what the man was going to tell Julia. Yet another lesson learned. Do not trust anyone, no matter how good they are in bed, especially if they have dirt on you. 

She could see the tears in his eyes, but didn't say anything about it, not wanting to hurt his pride any more then it must have been. Whatever happened would be discussed only if he chose to bring it up because she had no desire to initiate an argument when the reason she came back was to apologise for their previous one. Julia rubbed his back, waiting patiently for him to say something. It was hard to see him like that, but she knew she couldn't just leave him alone without knowing how he was really feeling.

Hwoarang put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, and squeezed her gently. He sighed and finally forced himself to speak, "I want you to stay at a hotel for a few days. I'm going to keep him here so I can get that information for you. What do you want me to ask him?"

"… That's not safe. He'll hurt you."

The Korean kissed her forehead and laughed lightly, "I can handle his neglected, abused ass. It will be my pleasure to knock some info out of a Mishima for a good cause."

"If you insist," Julia put her cheek to her boyfriend's shoulder, "He knows where a disc is that I need. Ask him about a green disc. He'll know what you are talking about if he knows you're involved with me. I'll be at the Imperial hotel. Call me whenever you get the chance, because I've already begun worrying about you being alone with that monster. Maybe you should call someone who will have your back… I'm sure Jin would be glad to help."

Hwoarang cringed, but didn't react angrily like he normally would have. She always brought up her beloved Kazama. It was insulting. He took a deep breath and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'll be fine. Take this money for clothes and shit. I don't think there's time to pack. He should be waking up soon."

She took the money reluctantly, and kissed him on the cheek, "Be careful. I love you."

The body stirred.

Hwoarang walked Julia to the door and opened it for her. As she stepped out, he pinched her ass, and smirked when she spun around in shock. He winked at her and said, "Catch you later, toots."

As soon as the door was closed, the eyes opened, glowing. Devil sat up and rubbed the back of its head. When it seen the cold glare it was receiving, it frowned. "I apologise for what he said, my Beautiful human. He didn't mean it." It stood. "He's just angry."

"Is he awake?"

"No. He's out cold."

Hwoarang lifted his leg high above his head and shuffled forward, building up force, bringing his heel crashing down on the low quality sofa. He watched it cave in before turning back to the demon. "I've said enough things out of anger to know that it's the best time to get the truth out of someone. He was fucking right! Nobody gives a shit about anyone but themselves. I was stupid to believe otherwise! I mean, come on! A devil actually caring about someone? A conservative activist liking a Korean street punk hustler? Kazuya caring about some twerp more then 20 years younger then him? What the fuck was I thinking? I'd be better off with that preteen whore I seen yesterday!"

The devil smiled, "The more upset you get, the more I want you. Kazuya knows nothing of what I care for, but I do."

Panic flashed in the Korean's eyes as he shakily lit a joint. He inhaled and closed his eyes as he spoke, "You're not human."

"For the first time, I wish I were. 'Demons', as you call us, are 'evil', not heartless. I did not care for you when we first met, in fact, I couldn't have possibly hated you more, but when I watched you fight at that bar, something came over me…"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes, "Are we going for some kind of award for this touching speech, or is there an actual fucking point?"

"I am aware that you are not a fan of words of love, so I will conclude my speech here." The devil tilted its head quizzically, "Do you wish to accompany me to fetch that woman's disc, or shall I go alone. You do want it, don't you? Or would you prefer to just rough me up?"

Words of love? Hwoarang sat down on his broken couch, and sighed. What could he say? Reply to the reasonable questions, or comment on the statement? Honestly, what did he have to lose? He'd only regret not commenting, but would he regret doing so? Was that a risk he was willing to take? He sucked the joint, sighing the smoked back out after he felt it fill his lungs. _Just relax…_

The Korean looked over into the red eyes, and smirked, "Love. People are always throwing that word around as if they were tossing candies at a fucking parade. Even if they meant it, it only makes them vulnerable. Why take that risk? Why do that to yourself?"

"Because I love you."

Hwoarang felt an unwelcome chill as he let the words sink in. "You barely know me," He snapped, getting somewhat defensive.

Devil nodded, "I love what I know. In all my existence, I have never met anyone so perfect. Perhaps it's because I'm a 'devil', but I've been wanting to cut off that woman's limbs and feed them to her while she's still alive for trying to change you."

The joint wasn't working. The Korean was trembling harder, the more the demon spoke. He put out the joint, and hid his hands behind his back, not wanting the shaking to be noticed. He didn't understand. Someone, or rather something, was going from all he ever feared to all he ever wanted, but it wasn't human. It was evil, so how could he tell that it wasn't lying. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Devil bowed its head, and walked over to the window, "I'll be back tomorrow with the disc. You don't have to wait for me. I will find you." With that said, it opened the window, and leapt out. 

"Zekkai…"

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	7. Blah Blah

A/N: Don't get excited now, I'm not back. I just wrote this at home, and went to a library to post it. I figured, after I read my reviews at school, that I should let you people know that I'm still alive before you forget about me. So I wrote this awhile ago, so I don't remember what it's about. I'm pretty sure I read it over and edited, but you never know. Tell me what you think! 

**Disclaimer**  I don't… ah I'm too lazy for this.

**Crossfire**

Chapter Seven

My World 

Smoke rose to the ceiling in large clouds. Any normal passer-by may have thought that something was on fire, but that was not the case. Five men sat around a table near the back of the small bar. Four of the five smoked cigars, while the fifth simply stuck to cigarettes. They looked back and forth amongst each other, making lame attempts at mind reading. Only three still held cards in their hands that they shielded from the others.

Nobody else appeared willing to fold. An Austrian man in a grey business suit tossed in a bill of yen. No words had been spoken since the cards had been dealt. Words weren't needed. The players weren't blind. They could see exactly how much their opponents were raising the stakes. But this foreign man was arrogant in every sense of the word. He had been even before the game had begun. If he didn't have a good hand, he must have been certain he would win anyway, or else he was just good at bluffing.

The silver haired devil set his cigarette to rest in the glass-imitation ashtray, as he fished through his wallet for more cash so he could raise the stakes even higher. Not much yen left. He swore under his breath and tossed in the remainder of his yen, meeting the bet. He could have always gone into his American funds, but that was too big of risk for a simple poker game, and he wouldn't even be gambling if that bastard hadn't called him Tinkerbell.

The third man, a Japanese busboy, met the bet, and laid down his cards. A full house. Not bad. The man smirked, expecting the other two to be upset, but they weren't. As soon as he noticed, he frowned and motioned to the waitress to refill his mug.

The Austrian laid down his cards. A royal flush. Shit. 

Lee looked down at his own hand of all blue. Gambling was never his thing, unless you considered stock markets to be. He could never understand how people could get addicted to playing cards, especially if they lost more often then they won. Some people were merely idiots. There's not much more to it then that.

He placed his cards on the table, and put the cigarette back in his mouth, rolling his eyes as the Austrian snickered and grabbed the money. How could a grown man be so utterly childish? It was a pathetic sight, but not any less amusing. Lee always enjoyed watching people insult themselves when they didn't even know they were doing it. 

"Excuse me. Mr. Chaolan," The waitress said in Japanese, handing him a martini, "A man over there bought this for you."

The Austrian's lip curled in a disgusted, but smug, smirk, "So you are a fag after all, Tinker bell. Whose your friend? Peter pan? I don't suppose he's any better at poker then you, huh?"

Lee peered through the smoke, searching for a familiar face, completely ignoring the irritating man's words for fear that stupidity may be contagious. No familiar faces, but there was familiar hair. Kazuya. Lee grinned and left the table, not touching the martini, nor honouring the waitress with any thanks. He approached the other table with thoughts of victory. When subtle red eyes turned to meet him, he froze mid-stride.

"Is there something the matter, Brother? You don't look very happy to see me," The devil smiled, "Take a seat, please. I won't bite. I just ate."

"What do you want?" Lee questioned as he sat down opposite the creature.

The devil studied the man in front of it, and narrowed its eyes, "You have been nothing but trouble since the day I first laid eyes on you. Of course I should be rather thankful that now my beautiful human is closer to being mine alone, but you hurt the human. Because of you, Kazuya turned on my precious mortal, and now it will be even more difficult to meet once your brother wakes up."

"Since when is the likes of you interested in a human?" Lee laughed and put his cigarette out in another fake glass ashtray, "Do I know her? She must be a vixen in bed if she won you over."

An accomplished smile presented itself on the devil's face. "You may have met 'her' once upon a time. If you recognise the title, Hwoarang. In answer to your other question, I've never had better. Now," it stood and turned toward the door, "I recommend you keep your distance from my host, or you shall live to regret your very birth. Are we clear, Chaolan?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love? Lust? The most dangerous four letter words there were. The word fuck never hurt anyone, but the L words have hurt many. Another four letter L word… Loss. In most ways loss has nothing to do with love or lust, but in every way it does. That has yet to make sense, but that doesn't make it any less true. Not in this case, anyway.

Hwoarang was already down to his socks alone, as he let the last article of his companion's clothing hit the floor. He knew he didn't love the man, but lust was just as dangerous in his eyes, if not more. Even knowing that, he continued on, letting the thickness of his rival's member throb in his mouth. 

What was going on was difficult to put into words. Jin didn't know what to do besides go with the flow. His rival seemed so fixed on not being alone, but he pushed people away. He was creating a world that was doomed to end on a sad note. It was only a matter of time before the chaotic world fell. Did Jin really want to fall with it? At that moment he did. He even felt like he was falling, and it felt so good.

Hwoarang kissed the inside of the Japanese thigh lightly, purposely teasing the man. Of course, it worked like a charm. Success was confirmed with the tensing of his muscles. A wet tongue crawled up his shaft slowly. Jin's lover abdomen cramped from the pain of his libido. If only the Korean wasn't such a tease. If only the teasing wasn't so addictive. No. It wasn't the teasing that was addictive, it was that Korean. That damned Korean.

And then there was nothing. Jin opened his eyes, not even knowing he had closed them in the first place, to an unpleasant surprise. There was Kazuya Mishima, positioned dangerously behind Hwoarang, holding the young man's head as if threatening to snap it. "Father…" Jin breathed in disbelief. What was going on?

"If you move, I will not hesitate to kill him. He has caused me enough problems that it would probably do me good," Kazuya said quietly, smirking at his former lover's silence.

Jin didn't move, though he was extremely uncomfortable with being exposed in front of his father, and had to fight off the urge to reach for a pillow or something else to cover himself with. He didn't understand what was happening, so he asked, "What do you want?"

Kazuya sneered and eyed the silent redhead. "An apology would be nice."

"Fuck you," Hwoarang finally spoke, "I'm not afraid of your incestuous ass! Zekkai would never let you kill me, and we both know that hurting me wouldn't do any damn good. Take your best fucking shot, baby."

The words didn't phase the cruel older man in the least. He smirked and unbuttoned his pants, yanking the Korean's head back. "Is it that difficult to apologise, or do you want me to do this? I'm not so sure this new fly in your web will appreciate your stubbornness. Perhaps you should reconsider your answer."

Jin could feel panic rising up his throat. "Hwoarang," He pleaded.

Hwoarang sighed and licked his lips, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry you insulted yourself by fucking your brother out of jealousy. I'm sorry you screwed things up for yourself. I'm sorry Zekkai is better with your body then you are. I'm sorry, and I mean that in the most sincere way possible. Now be a fucking man and leave your son out of this."

Silence came in reply as Kazuya let those words sink in. The nerve of that boy. If a battle was what he wanted, he wouldn't be let down. Kazuya smiled and used his free hand to roam the side of the Korean's body. "I don't think your fly will ever forgive you after that one. Now you'll do as I say, or I may be forced to set an example. Do we have an understanding?"

"Sure," Hwoarang said, watching Jin through thoughtful eyes, "Awaiting orders, sir."

Only Jin was able to see the gleam in his father's eyes. Was this the fall that he had accepted to be a part of so easily? Was that the price to pay for being a part of Hwoarang's life? It was difficult to understand Hwoarang and Kazuya's relationship. They acted like they wanted to murder each other, yet, underneath it all, it was almost as if they worshipped each other. It was disturbing. It was many things good and bad, but not something Jin wanted to be a part of. He considered running off, but was afraid of what would happen to his rival. He didn't think his father would kill the man, but there was always that mention of rape.

Kazuya roughly shoved Hwoarang's face toward Jin's arousal, "Finish what you started. We do not want to keep Kazama-san waiting, do we?"

"Zekkai…" Hwoarang cringed, "Zekkai, help…"

"SILENCE!" Kazuya raged, fighting back the insistent demon, "It is not wise to disobey me, Hwoa-kun. Don't make me tell you again, because if it comes to that, you will not be happy with the outcome, and you know exactly what I mean by that."

Hwoarang glared into space as he took his rival's length into his mouth. Hostility and animosity clouded his eyes so completely that he went into a trance like state, still absently doing as he was told. He didn't seem to notice Kazuya kneeling down behind him and kissing his neck. He was unresponsive. It was like he wasn't there. He was in another world, yet the anger remained plastered on his features.

Jin squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the Korean like that if he couldn't do anything about it. But what could be done? Jin hadn't a clue what his father was capable of. It scared him that the older Mishima had been able to shut Hwoarang up so easily. What had happened between them? And who was this Zekkai Jin kept hearing about?

Suddenly Hwoarang cried out, clutching at the sheets on either side of his rival. The creases on his forehead begged for it to stop, but it didn't seem like he minded the pain. It was the humiliation that he didn't like. Hwoarang gasped as Kazuya began thrusting him. When he noticed Jin's eyes were back open, he mouthed the words, 'don't look'. He didn't want his rival to see him in that pathetic, vulnerable position. He turned his head slightly to direct his words at the older man, "You made your point, Mishima. I'm sorry I said those things, I'm doing what you said. I'm apologizing. Now please," Hwoarang's voice cracked. He paused to pull himself together, "Please go."

Kazuya smirked and violently thrust himself in, "The things you will do for pride. We both know that this is exactly what you want. Three of your flies in one room, stuck to your web. Now how you managed to trap a devil is beyond me, but you did, and that devil's interest in you is crippling me, So I will not go until you hate him. Until everyone sees how weak and pathetic you really are."

"I said I'm sorry," Hwoarang growled, panting through the pain, "That was your original request and now I'm beginning to think you're just making excuses to stay. If all you wanted was to join in, man, I'm sure we could have compromised, but now you've completely killed the mood. So get the fuck out of me, and hit the road."

"Strange words from a man struggling to keep himself from crying like an eight-year-old girl."

Hwoarang's lip curled in a grimace, "Oh I'm sorry. That must be very uncomfortable for you. I'll try to act more like an eight-year-old boy."

Jin cringed, wishing the Korean would lose the attitude for once, for his own sake. Anger would not likely help their current circumstances much. The fall wasn't feeling so good anymore. There must have been a way to escape in one piece before Kazuya got too angry and worked up. Of course, the two young men could probably take the Mishima rather easily, but Kazuya was smarter then that. He made sure he had the power before his presence was even known. So what could be done?

The bed rocked as Kazuya assaulted the interior of his former lover. The head board banged loudly against the wall. Once again, Jin was silently ordered to look away. He obeyed for lack of any better ideas, forced to listen to his rival's pained cries and his father's grunts. A warm mouth closed over Jin's manhood once again, and he looked to see that Hwoarang was doing it on his own. There must have been some reasoning behind it. As the world started spinning in bright colours, the young Japanese man soon realized his rival's intent. The intense pleasure blocked everything else out.

The older man laughed as the Korean's fist began dripping blood. Hwoarang was digging his nails into his palms, and staining the white cotton sheets, but from the determined look on his face, the self inflicted injury was more of a strategic move then anything else. It was nice to know that Hwoarang could still think straight, because Jin couldn't. Did the redhead have a plan? More importantly: Would it work?

The thrusting stopped suddenly, and Kazuya's eyes closed right. When they opened again, they glowed red. Devil was back. The demon gently took one of the Korean's hands and licked the blood. What scared Jin the most was the smile his rival donned. Why would Hwoarang be so relieved at the creatures presence when it could do far more damage then its host? But the look in the Korean's eyes were answer enough. That look was one of love, or something close to it.

"Zekkai," Hwoarang sighed, answering Jin's unspoken question.

Devil pulled itself out of its young lover, and readjusted its pants. Jin watched in amazement as the creature ran a gently hand through Hwoarang's crimson mane. So this was the Korean's beloved Zekkai? That was an even stranger relationship. It wasn't right. It was a devil. How could the redhead trust that thing? How could someone trust something that was evil by nature? Jin couldn't believe he was witnessing the naïve display. He had to get out of there before Devil decided to take back its other half.

It grabbed pants off the floor and tossed them at Jin. "Get dressed, boy. I'm taking a day off trying to kill you so relax a little."

"What does Hwoarang have that you're after? How long do you intend to keep him on your hook?" Jin asked, slipping on his pants, "If your after this thing inside me, take it. Just leave him alone."

Devil laughed, "How noble, but I hate to break it to you, not everything is about you. What I want is exactly what you want. I want him. It's as simple as that. There is no need to worry, for I have no intention of harming my beautiful human. I have no reason. If it was you I wanted, I had the perfect chance not a minute ago. In fact, the only reason I didn't take it was out of respect for him. You should be thankful for our relationship, not trying to ruin it." 


	8. Throw It All Away

A/N: MWAHAHAHA I have returned from the dead! Yes... Uh, anyway, I'm already done up to chapter sixteen, so I did make myself useful during my absence. I hope my readers still exist... ENJOY! 

Disclaimer I do not own any thing related to Tekken, and anything a subject the characters to is my fault alone. Namco is not nearly as cruel as I am. 

Crossfire 

Chapter Eight 

Throw It All Away. 

"Nothing ever goes right! I can't do anything without something bad happening!" Hwoarang shouted, kicking the heavy bag in the middle of the dojo, while Julia stood in the corner, watching him freak out, "I'm fucking cursed! I can't take it! How long is it going to be before everything completely ends? Where's a fucking knife?" 

Julia shook her head, "You're in no condition to have a knife." 

Hwoarang walked over and grabbed his girlfriend by the throat. Desperation distorted his features to an almost terrifying extent. He looked her in the eye watching her struggle for breath, and then asked in a quiet but powerful voice, "Give me your fucking knife, now. I want to show you something that I have been lying about. Now is not the time to get on my nerves." 

His voice alarmed her, and she quickly complied. Once free, she rubbed her neck, and watched the Korean pace back and forth as he pulled his black wife-beater over his head. Hwoarang pointed to his chest as he paced, "You see these scars and scabs? I didn't get them in fights. Not all of them anyway. I did this to myself. I fucked myself up, and I intend to continue to do so!" He flipped the knife open and put it to his forearm. 

Julia ran, and grabbed at the knife only to go crashing to the floor, empty-handed, when he shoved her away. She turned and looked up at the Korean, shocked that he would treat her so roughly. When he pressed the blade into his arm, she screamed for him to stop, but he only ignored the frightened pleas, and continued. He smiled at the blood running down the blade, and dripping to the wooden floor. 

"It's the only way I've kept from going insane, but even pain can't help me forever. I've got so many fucking secrets, I just want to get them out right now, but I won't because I haven't completely snapped It feels so good, Julia. So fucking free. Have you ever been so high on a sensation that you felt like you were flying? That's how this makes me feel. You know what else? I don't want to land, and it's not because this rush is so sweet, it's because I hate coming back to this shithole of a reality! This is the only relief there is. You should try it." 

She got up and approached the man cautiously, "Life is only what you make of it. Give me the knife, Hwoarang." 

"I think you'd better back up, babe," Hwoarang warned, "You wouldn't take bees away from a beekeeper, would you? How fair is it to take the knife away from a masochist? You're the last person I'd expect to be so narrow-minded." 

"You're not thinking. Let me help you." 

Hwoarang grabbed Julia by the hair and put the bloody knife in front of her eyes, "This is who I am. This is what I am. What will it take to make you understand that? I am not ashamed of who I am. Not even you can make me ashamed." 

Before Julia could respond, Jin walked in. The young Japanese froze upon catching sight of the couple, having expected to find the dojo empty. It wasn't a very promising sight with Hwoarang holding Julia and the knife so dangerously. Of all the dojos in Tokyo, he had to come to that one. He probably would have turned around and left if it weren't for the terrified look on Julia's face. If only he was heartless enough to leave her, things would be so much simpler. 

Jin dropped his bag on a bench by the door, and spoke calmly, "Hwoarang, let her go." 

"Oh look," Hwoarang smiled bitterly, "It's mister knight in shining armour." He shoved Julia away, once again, "Come on, pretty boy. Don't let the woman down. This is where you take her up into your arms and share a kiss of true love. She's been waiting for this moment for oh so long. Three years if my memory serves. What are you waiting for?" 

Julia wiped a tear from her cheek and shook her head, "It's you I love, Hwoarang, now stop this!" 

"Bullshit." 

"Hwoarang" 

The Korean growled and whipped the knife at his girlfriend, landing it inches away from her neck. He looked at Jin and gestured at the girl. "Do you see the lies she feeds me? She's always been ashamed of me, yet she says shit like that. No wonder I screw up so much! Being lied to constantly makes me crazy! So I lie back." He laughed and turned to Julia, "Wanna know what else I have lied about? When Kazuya attacked Jin and I brought him home, we didn't meet up to fight." 

Julia looked at Jin, "What's he saying?" 

"Nope. The only fighting that night was between Zekkai and me. I'll tell you exactly what happened, but beware, I tend to explain better through example." Hwoarang smirked. He walked up to Jin and kissed him, laughing at the shocked gasp the American made. 

Jin pushed his rival away, bewildered that Hwoarang would be acting like that. It was as if the redhead had completely given up on his attempts at not being alone. But why would he just suddenly give up and self destruct? Why throw his own world into shambles? It didn't make sense. Or maybe Jin missed something. His brow furrowed as he assessed the crazy Korean, not knowing how to handle the situation. So he waited for Hwoarang's next move. 

"We almost fucked too. Three times. But something always got in the way. I assume I had my last chance before you found out about Zekkai. I lost you, I lost Mishima-sama, and so, I figured I might as well lose her too while I'm at it. Throw away two years of lies all because Actually I don't even know why. It doesn't matter. Just go the fuck away, and if I see either of you again, you'll regret it. Now go." He looked between the two before shouting, "Go, damnit!" 

The two confused adults obeyed quickly and quietly, leaving together. For a few moments Hwoarang stood there, just staring at the doorway, listening to a car drive away. Moments later, he fell against the heavy bag, clinging on to the chains holding it up, and bowing his head slightly so that his forehead rested on the rough material, and his eyes faced the floor. Uncontrollable sobs wracked his body, sending him into convulsions whenever he tried to stop. Eventually he stopped trying. Who cared about dignity? Who cared? 

As if in answer, two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a supportive and protective embrace. Still he didn't stop crying, nor did he dare look to see who it was, not wanting to know who was witnessing his breakdown. But those arms were definitely those of a Mishima. Could it be Zekkai? 

"You didn't lose me, Hwoa-kun. I'm right here, caught in your web with no intention of going free." 

Mishima-sama. 

Hwoarang buried his tear-streaked face in the older man's neck. A million different things to say stumbled through his mind, but any attempt at voicing them was in vain. He clung to the older man, afraid to let go, afraid to fall to his knees. Being as low as he felt frightened him more then anything. Fear was the ugliest emotion he could think of, and he was up to his ass in it, whether or not he had reason to be. 

"Shhh," Kazuya cooed, stroking the fiery hair, "You need rest. You're over tired Do you want Zekkai?" 

Unable to speak clearly, the Korean simply shook his head and allowed the Japanese to pick him up and carry him out the backdoor, to a Honda waiting in the back street. The fresh air calmed Hwoarang down somewhat, so he was able to stop sobbing, but not even fresh air could cure trembling. He hugged himself self-consciously after he was placed in the passenger seat. He watched Kazuya walk around the front of the car, wondering why that man came back for him. What did Zekkai think of it? Did Zekkai care? 

When Kazuya settled himself in the drivers seat, he leaned over and presented the Korean with a kiss that served as an apology. That would be put into words later, because it wouldn't be fair to start a serious conversation when the younger of the two could barely stand, let alone think clearly. 

"Was what he said, true?" 

" Yes." 

"He's gay?" 

Jin stared out the windshield, refusing to meet Julia's demanding eyes. His responses were so quiet that she had to strain her hearing in order to understand correctly. He glanced at the car beside him, and shrugged, "I don't know. I'm not so sure he even knows what he is." 

"Who's Zekkai?" 

Jin sighed, stopping at a red light, "Normally I wouldn't dream of telling you because it isn't any of my business, but since his involvement with Zekkai worries me, I'll make an exception. Zekkai is the one we know as, 'devil'." 

Julia gasped, staring at the Japanese and hoping he'd tell her he was joking. No such luck. What else didn't she know about Hwoarang? What type of involvement did he have with that thing? It couldn't be possible. How long had it been going on? She shuddered to think how far her boyfriend had gone with other men when he was going home to her. She suddenly felt very sick. "Can you stop at a hospital? I should get some testing done and I could probably use a translator if you're not busy." 

The Japanese man glanced at the American through the rear view mirror, and nodded. It was obvious what was on her mind, and all things considered, he didn't blame her. He'd probably do the same thing. Did his rival have similar relationships before Kazuya? The Korean's meltdown was still a mystery when it came to the cause, and it rose the question: had it happened before? Even if it had, that still wouldn't explain anything. 

"I'm worried about him," Julia told Jin, "In the two years we've been together, the only time he'd really explode would be when he was panicking about something, and he's never exploded like that before. He's never physically expressed his anger, outside the tournaments, toward me. Until now, that is What if he's in danger? What if he purposely pushed everyone away because he didn't want to put us in danger?" 

"Or maybe you're reading too much into it," Jin suggested, "Maybe he's tired of living a lie. Some people do freak out for that reason." 

She frowned and looked out her window, "Should we really take that risk? Just assume he's ok and leave it at that? You're probably right, but if you're not, we're leaving him to deal with it all alone. If what you say about Zekkai is true, then he is in great danger. He's up against evil. Real evil, Jin. There's no way he'd stand a chance against this evil. I have to help him After the tests I'll go find him. I'll give him a chance to cool down. He could use your help, too." 


	9. What A Mess

A/N: Yes! Another update in less then 5 months! lol! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: BLAH BLAH BLAH! Tekken blah blah blah not mine blah blah.

Crossfire

Chapter Nine

What a Mess

Not a movement or a sound came from the dark room since the previous day. Exhaustion weighed heavily on the occupant, putting him in a coma-like sleep. A demon perched on the end of the bed, watched over the sleeping mortal, guarding the young man against nothing and everything. Cold breaths caressed the mortal's flesh, the demon being too afraid to use its hands for fear of disturbing the catatonic sleep of its verboten love.

Familiar noises alerted the creature. Someone was approaching the hotel room. The footsteps sounded leisurely, posing no threat to the demon, so it retreated back inside its host, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention with its inhuman features. Someone, human as far as a mortal could tell, was left, waiting for the unknown guest to make their presence known with an all too simple knock on the door. Soon enough, it came. A rather musical knock was heard.

The lights flickered on independently, as Kazuya approached the door. Every few seconds the inner demon ordered him to glance back at the lifeless Korean, just to make sure nothing bad had befallen The boy when their back was turned. It was one of the many complications that came with sharing a body with 'devil', but a small one that was easily tolerated.

Kazuya opened the door as he glanced back at the redhead. When he finally paid the newcomer some of his divided attention, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Whether his reaction was shock or the demon's anger, didn't matter. Lee Chaolan stood before him, dressed in a blue and white casual suit. A sight for sore eyes… So much so, that Kazuya barely even noticed the enraged ramblings going on inside his head. Even the violent oaths being sworn against his adoptive brother were easily ignored.

"Come in, Chaolan."

Lee smiled, amused, as he stepped in. Insincere hurt creased his brow as he said, "We've lived under the same roof for years, dining together, training together, hating together, and even, on occasion, laughing together. Why do you insist on speaking to me with such formalities? You know I hate formalities."

Kazuya turned and walked back toward the occupied bed, speaking softly over his shoulder, "That is why I do it. I have already told you, we are still enemies. Your dislikes are priority because I love to see you object. Now please, do not speak too loudly. He needs to sleep without disturbances, and I'm not entirely sure how light a sleeper he is."

"So this is my compitition for your heart," Lee thought aloud as he approached the bed for a closer look at the boy, "I had never really paid this one much mind at the forth tournament, but I must admit, he is a pretty one. I don't really blame your other face for being defensive. I wonder, how is he in bed? I've never been with a Korean rocker half my age, so indulge me."

"I'm afraid you have nothing to worry about, competition wise. My personal demon and this boy have fallen into something along the lines of a corrupt love affair. As for in bed, you'd have to ask Zekkai. My experience with him were when he was merely a nice toy, so I didn't give him much of a chance to show off his skills… Or of course you could find out for yourself when he wakes."

Lee chuckled lightly, "No, no. That is quite all right." He looked over the Korean's body, as if considering, "If I remember that tournament correctly, I won't possibly be able to take five minutes of this boy when he is awake. How you've managed to stand him is completely beyond me. Though he is quite attractive, he is not my type nor am I his. Besides, I'd rather not parade on your demon's territory. Defying it by being here is one thing, but even I'm not crazy enough to try out its love interest."

Kazuya smirked and pulled Lee into a light kiss. It was nice knowing he wouldn't have to share someone with Zekkai or Hwoarang. Even the curiosity about how being here was an act of defiance, didn't matter. As he slowly deepened the kiss, he enjoyed the thought that Lee was his alone. Finally his. The demon had also calmed upon realizing that this new relationship could, in no way, affect his situation with the Korean, unless Hwoarang had more feelings for Kazuya then he knew about, in which case, it would be prepared to dispose of the problem at once.

Once the two broke away from each other, Kazuya looked down to see a pair of dark Korean eyes looking up at him, still half-lidded with sleep. The boy yawned, and lazily turned his gaze to Lee. A subtle look of annoyance was apparent, but he didn't look all that upset.

Hwoarang sat up and looked back at Kazuya. "Next time you want to swap spit with a pansy, please spare me the visual, or at least make it a good show. Why is it so fucking cold in here?"

"It's not cold in here. Zekkai's just been breathing on you for the past 21 hours. It's been worried about you."

Lee frowned, "Why on earth does it have a name? When did this happen?"

"I named him," Hwoarang responded, stressing the 'him' as he glared at Lee, "Since nobody else was thoughtful enough to do it. No wonder he's known as 'devil'. I'd be a terror too if I spent most of my life without someone who cared enough to name me. And stop calling him an it. He currently has a dick, so that makes him a guy. Show him a little fucking respect, because if it wasn't for him, Kazuya would be dead, and you'd probably still be Heihachi's bitch."

The two adoptive brothers glanced at each other, and shrugged. It was strange for a young man like the Blood Talon to relate to a demon, and be so defensive about it. Kazuya found the relationship sad and unnatural. He wanted some way to convince the boy to leave the demon behind, but it was obvious that there would be endless resistance on both sides. Lessons would just have to be learned through experience.

/There is more possibilities you have failed to consider./

Kazuya looked to his reflection in the mirror, and crossed his arms at his hideous reflection. Having something in his mind was somewhat of an inconvenience, especially when that thing was the subject of his thoughts. Red angry eyes stared back at him that nobody else could see. The thoughts must not have made it very happy.

/You're jealous./

"Indeed," Kazuya sneered, rolling his eyes.

Hwoarang climbed out of bed and glanced at the clock. He frowned and spoke, "Please tell me that what happened yesterday was just a bad dream. I didn't really say those things, did I?"

"I'm sorry Hwoa-kun."

The Korean cursed and balled his hands into fists. It was all over. Talk about a screw up. He shook his head and walked to the door, "What am I going to do? She knows. Why do I always have to fuck things up?" He looked desperately to Kazuya, "Is Zekkai mad at me? Did I screw that up too? What about you, Mishima-sama?" The dark eyes drifted to Lee, "You look like shit in Dark Blue."

Lee quirked a brow, "Oh how adorable is that? The boy thinks he knows something about fashion. It's not dark blue. It's aquamarine. Now 'Mishima-sama', do tell us the answer to his inquiry."

Kazuya glanced at his reflection before answering, "I'm not sure it's possible for you to anger Zekkai, and I already told you… You did not lose me… Where are you going? You should be resting. If you want to go somewhere, I'll drive you."

"No man. I've had enough rest. I'm just going for a walk, maybe get some grub. You know, give you ladies some time alone? How long should I wait before heading back?" Hwoarang considered Lee for a moment, "Fifteen minutes, max."

Lee was correct about not being able to stand the boy. He glared at Hwoarang, trying to come up with where he could hide the body if it came to that. No. Kazuya would never forgive him. "Maybe you should grab a hotel room for the night. I wouldn't want you walking in on something that would make you uncomfortable. I'll cover the bill. I'd ask if you'd like to join us, but I doubt you'd be able to keep up."

"If that was a challenge, I'm going to have to take a rain check. I'm afraid snob might be one of those contagious STD type things. Kazuya, do me a favour and wear a mask." The Korean winked at Kazuya, "Later," and walked out the door.

* * *

Paintings and scrolls hung stylishly on the off-white walls. The habitant of the traditional Japanese home was long dead, and it had been turned into a tourist trap. Of course it was closed until the next big tourist season. Every now and then, a trusted volenteer would check up on the place to make sure things were working properly. Typically there was a bulb that needed to be replaced, or the furnace relit, otherwise, things around there tended to run rather smoothly. 

It was Jin's turn to check up on things. The place was in good shape, as usual. No burnt out bulbs, the fuse box looked clean, and the furnace was doing its job, but there was something else on his mind, which almost caused him to pass a leaky faucet. Not a big deal, but he wasn't one to waste water, and the problem was fixed in about a minute. The task also served as a much-needed distraction from his troubled thoughts.

Once everything was secure, the young man wandered into a room that had been made into a shrine to buda. Jin smiled and sat in the centre of the room, facing the friendly-faced statue. To think the man who owned the place was thinking of getting rid of the shrine because it wasn't popular with the tourists. Everything was about popularity. People came to that place to see traditional Japanese culture, yet they tended to ignore the most traditional parts.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone entering the room. There was a pause in the footsteps, but they continued. Jin remained calm, listening intently to the footsteps, deciding to only pay the intruder any mind if it sounded like they were coming too close. They stopped again, a little farther then arms length as far as he could tell.

"You're disgusting. What does my human see in you?" The intruder spat, "I should hope it's merely a physical attraction, for the sight of you graveling at your god's feet is pathetic. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. This is your end, boy. I hope you've enjoyed your life."

That creature just wouldn't give up. Jin got to his feet and glanced over his shoulder at the purple skin, "I assume you hope all of Hwoarang's relations were merely physical, with you as the exception. In my case, I assure you, there's nothing to worry about. Unless you kill me. I don't imagine he will be very thrilled about that."

Devil smirked and stepped forward, putting itself directly in its prey's line of sight, "He will never know. Even if he does find out; I've forgiven him for getting so close to you after our original plan failed, so he'll forgive me for killing you. Any last words? I'd like to end this conversation quickly. Your father's growing restless."

"One thing… Did Kazuya… rape Hwoarang?"

"Aside from the other day at your apartment? Since you were there, I assume your referring to the other times," The demon shook his head regretfully, "No. After the failure to seduce you in that warehouse, it was I who punished him. Not your father."

Was it serious? Jin stared at it in disbelief. "And he loves you? I don't believe it. Why would he love something that could do something like that to him?"

Devil sighed and walked over to the statue. "We have resolved our differences since then. Now that's quite enough talk. Let's get straight to business."

* * *

Nobody was answering the door. Hwoarang cursed and knocked again. In any other situation he would have assumed they were still going at it, but it had been a few hours and he had left his wallet in there. He couldn't do anything but wander about aimlessly if he didn't have his wallet, and after awhile, that got tiring. 

Finally the door opened and an exhausted silver-haired Asian tilted his head at the Korean, as if confused about something, "You're still alive? What a pity. C'est la vie. Well then, how can I help you?"

"Where's Kazuya?"

Lee sighed and turned to walk over to the small table by the window, leaving the door open in a silent invitation. He sat down, and lit a cigarette. Hwoarang entered, closing the door behind him quietly, and approached Lee, sitting on the table and grabbing the cigarette right out of the older man's mouth. He took a long drag and then gave it back, smirking smugly at the annoyed glance he received.

Lee looked out the window and replied, "That demon your so worked up about took over and set out after its… 'his' other half. I imagine he'll be back shortly."

"What?" Hwoarang jumped up, shocked but hardly surprised, "He's going to kill Jin! I guess if I don't stop him, no one else will. I'll need some wheels. Did he take the Honda? Where did he say he was going?"

"He didn't. Devil isn't entirely fond of me, so naturally he tends to not confide in me very often, nor do I wish he would. As for a ride, I suppose I could help you out there, but I'm driving, assuming you have some idea of where to go."

Hwoarang thought for a moment. All he had to do was find Jin, and everything would be fine. So how could he possibly find him? His eyes drifted to the phone on the table next to where he was standing. He picked up the receiver and dialled. After two rings there was an answer.

"Julia, don't hang up," He said quickly, "… No I'm fine. I'm not calling you because of me… No… Jin… Devil went after him. I need to find him so I can stop Zekkai… I'm not lying, I swear… What reason would I have to lie?… Do you know where he is? … Look I'm sorry about what I did and what I said, but this isn't about us, someone's life is in fucking danger, so will you please just help me? … Ok… Thank you." The Korean hung up and glanced at Lee, smiling nervously. "Let's go."

Lee got up and slung his aquamarine coat over his shoulder, and headed out the door with the redhead following close behind.

They hopped into a white convertible, and glanced at each other before getting into drive. A person would think there would be tension between the two since they had clashed since they first met, yet there was none, and it baffled them both. They knew they didn't like each other, but then why were they so comfortable? It was a mystery, but neither was willing to bring it up.

The first few moments were in silence as the men tried to figure out whether or not the other had noticed the lack of tension. Two pairs of Asian eyes stared blankly out the windshield, trying to decide how to bring up the subject. When they stopped at a red light, finally something was said.

Lee, being the older of the two, figured it was his job to speak up, "You don't think there's any chance we… Is there?"

Hard question to answer. Hwoarang assessed Lee for a moment, "I can't tell. Well, should we test it, you know, just to be sure?"

Lee nodded, assessing back in turn. The first move was made in unison as the two men leaned toward each other and pressed their lips together. It was an awkward kiss, and stiff. After a second they pulled back and spit over either side of the car, completely disgusted.

* * *

The house was fairly large. Stunning from their parking space along the street. Obviously the family who had once resided in it were well off. The silver-haired devil didn't look impressed but the place was a palace compared to the slums the blood talon had called home. Neatly kept shrubs and flowers decorated the front lawn, adding a friendly atmosphere to the museum. It looked like such an innocent place , and Hwoarang felt like he was committing a crime just looking at it. 

It was apparent that devil had already arrived, judging by the front door swinging open, moving with the wind. Both men climbed out of the car at the same time, and made their way to the museum, hesitating only for a brief moment before stepping over the threshold. Were they too late? How long had it been since the demon graced the building with its presence, tainting the innocent atmosphere with its intrusiveness.

Hwoarang led the way down the hall, peaking into each room on the way, wondering why Chaolan was following. Probably to enjoy the show, he figured. Each room was void of any life down that hallway. The next hallway only had two sliding doors, one of which had a light on. Noises came through the thin paper walls. Shuffling, struggling, and heavy breathing, and finally someone cried out.

The two men rushed in only to see devil pinning a struggling Jin to a solid outside wall, right next to a small shrine.

"Zekkai…" Hwoarang whispered, stepping forward.

The devil spotted the blood talon, and suddenly released its captive as if it forgot it was even holding someone. It quickly closed the distance between it and Hwoarang, slipping its hands into the red silky hair, "My love."

Lee was the one to rush to Jin's side to check the young man's condition. The boy was still conscious, but exhausted from the struggle. His eyes were bloodshot, and his body trembled from the strain of devil's power.

Hwoarang looked to his rival and sighed. "Zekkai, do I have to keep you on a fucking leash? I leave for a few hours to give Kazuya the chance to get busy with his 'non-brother' and you end up taking off to kill my rival, and Kazuya's son. I can't leave you alone! You're turning me into a fucking nag."

"I suppose I got sloppy this time," Devil admitted, gazing at its young lover, "But something good came out of it. You're here. This is a pleasant interference, although I do not understand why you brought Chaolan along. Was I wrong to believe you two hated each other?"

"No. I still hate him," Lee announced as he helped Jin to his feet, "But my hate for you, 'Zekkai', surpasses any other, so I helped him in hopes that I'd put a cramp in some aspect of your life. Now I see that I did you more of a favour, and I am quite disappointed with myself."

Devil smirked and spoke to Hwoarang, "Just looking at you drives me insane, my beautiful human." It lightly kissed the Korean lips, and continued, "I hope you aren't angry with me. Or must I make it up to you? Is there something you would like specifically or shall I be creative?" It enforced the question with another, more insistent kiss."

The Korean laughed as he broke away from the demon. He could feel himself blush from the tone in his lover's voice. Having two other men in the room – three if you include Kazuya- hearing the exchange, was a bit embarrassing. Lee's brow was quirked in amusement, but Jin didn't seem to be paying any attention to the scene. Was he hurt badly? He didn't look it. Hwoarang stepped toward the statue and bit his lip nervously.

"You're little boy is shy," Lee pointed out, "I wish I had a camera."

"Little boy?" Hwoarang laughed sarcastically, "Just because your years are catching up to you doesn't mean that I am little."

A hand hooked under the hem of the Korean's Jeans, and pulled him backwards into the awaiting embrace of his demon. Soft lips danced down to the nape of his neck, sending familiar chills down his spine, as a strong hand moved down his chest and abs. It was tempting to allow it to continue, but there were still others in the room, so he grabbed the demons hand and turned around to face those red eyes. They weren't there. It was Kazuya.

Lee noticed and rolled his eyes, "Oh please. What kind of spell did he put on you people… and things?"

Kazuya brushed the confused Korean's cheek, ignoring the other man, and then turned to leave. Before he could make it through the door, the paper walls caved in, and troops crowded in, surrounding the four men.

TBC…..


	10. Colorblind

A/N: The reason for the title of this fic is because that was the title for the original chapter ten that I decided to change... I was too lazy to come up with a better name for this new version of Chaper ten.

Disclaimer: Uh... Tekken is not mine, nor will it ever be.

Crossfire

Chapter 10

Colorblind

The troops surrounded them, armed with nothing but metal fists. Jin mumbled something about the house before springing into action, knocking three down within seconds. Hwoarang ran at a group and hit them, full force, with his shoulder, knocking most of them down. They got back up. Lee and Kazuya ran toward another few troops together, Kazuya leaping into a triple spin kick, and Lee leaping, and landing his foot against an armored head. A crack was heard.

Hwoarang, who was already snapping the neck of one troop, was unaware of the men sneaking up on him from behind a torn wall. Everyone else was busy with their own battles - Kazuya and Lee almost competing – to see the potential danger creeping up on the Korean.

Finally someone noticed. Lee's eyes widened as he shouted, "Behind you!"

Just as Hwoarang turned around, the men leaped on him, all at the same time, not even giving him the chance to retaliate. Kazuya finished off the men around him just as his eyes began to glow. His skin gained an almost reddish-purple tinge, though not quite as distinct as before he lost part of the demon to his son, and wings sprouted from his back. Devil was angry. It hopped up into flight as volts sprang from its eyes in long strings, clinging onto everyone it set its deadly glare on.

Silence fell. Lee and Jin got up to their feet, having dived for cover the second devil's feet left the ground. Hwoarang, unfortunately, was lying unconscious under a pile of corpses. Devil returned to the ground, and cautiously dug the redhead out, checking for a pulse. There was one, still pounding from the rush of adrenaline. Perhaps his mind was still swimming with the short lived battle.

Devil picked the limp body up, and turned to head out the door, not speaking a word. Lee and Jin followed suit, not knowing what else to do. It was obvious the silence was intentional, but it was nerve-wracking. The air was heavy with tension and electricity, not entirely from the demon's eyes. It was intensely uncomfortable.

As the men made it outside, a cab pulled up and out came Julia. She took one look at Hwoarang and gasped, horrified of what could have happened. But devil wasn't in the mood to answer to a Chang, so he continued walking toward the Honda.

"What did you do to him, you monster?" Julia demanded, blocking its path.

Devil glared at the woman, its eyes blazing with anger. "So you've come to save him from me, have you? How much help do you imagine you'll be, If I'm forced to paralyze you by unmentionable means? I suggest you move out of my way, for I will not tolerate you long."

"It was Heihachi's men," Jin told her quietly, "They attacked us."

"Right after Devil tried to kill Jin again," Lee pitched in.

Devil shot Lee a nasty look, "Perhaps you should leave with Miss Chang." It moved past Julia, hoisted Hwoarang over a shoulder to free a hand, and opened the back door of the Honda. "Are we finished here, or is there still subjects on the agenda to cover?"

Julia got into her fighting stance, her jaw set. "I will not allow you to continue with this… This despicable life you have dragged my boyfriend into. Now give him back to me, and never go near him again you jackass!"

"I think," Devil turned to look at Jin, "You'd better control your friend before she makes a mistake she won't live to regret."

"Control me?" Julia scoffed in disbelief, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Devil shrugged, and gently placed the Korean in the back seat, "I don't mind. Now, go away."

The woman shook her head, stubbornly and took a step forward. Of course, she was acting much more brave then she was feeling. Standing up to devil was not exactly the most relaxing experience she could have, in fact, she was struggling not to scream and run away. "I don't know why you want to drag him along any longer for your twisted little games, but I won't have it! He's sick. He needs help. He doesn't need a disgusting creature ruining his life anymore then it already is!"

A low growl came from the demon as it slowly turned back around to face her. No move was made for seconds, as the three martial artists, waited in terrified apprehension for Devil to lash out. Even Julia stood their, rigid with fear. She clasped her hands together behind her back, hoping that nobody seen them shake. Her trembling hands were the least of her worries. Devil narrowed its glowing eyes, and lunged at her, wrapping its hands around her throat, and lifting her into the air.

"Listen to me, you little bitch," It whispered venomously, "You see him doing things that you don't like, that isn't normal, and you call it sick? He's struggling to figure out who the fuck he is, trying to juggle his life around without letting you know what was happening, and trying to meet your own twisted demands, and you call him sick. I agree that he needs help. If I snapped your neck right now, I would be doing just that."

Jin stepped forward, "Put her down."

"Ah, my dear boy," Devil smiled, clearly amused, "How noble. Why, if Kazuya was any normal man, he'd be proud, but he's not. As a matter of fact, he wants my other half as much as I do, so if you want me to put her down, would you care to make a trade?"

Lee rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny thing of cologne. "This shit stinks to high heaven, and I'm not afraid to use it. Do I have to wake your beautiful human up? The girl irritates me to, but you don't see me seconds away from murder."

Devil sneered, "You want her alive," It tossed her aside, ignoring her yelp of pain upon contact with the cement sidewalk, "Then keep her the fuck away from me."

* * *

A figure crossed by the window too quick for him to make out the build. Someone was there? Who else had a key? It couldn't be Julia, could it? No, she had to be furious about what happened. So who else could it possibly be? Would anyone be dumb enough to break into his apartment? No. Nobody was that dumb. Maybe a new guy in the neighborhood? Didn't really matter, because they'd have figured out there was nothing worth stealing. 

Classical music drifted softly through the door. Maybe it was Julia after all. Just great, Another chance for her to make him feel like a fool. One last guilt trip. One last chance to watch him tear himself to shreds.

Hwoarang took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. Big surprise, it wasn't locked. The door opened with ease, and waiting on the other side was the young American woman, sitting within view in a broken armchair. It was strange that she didn't look angry, in fact she looked rather determined. A smile, of all things, crossed her face, as she got to her feet. This was hardly a likely scenario; therefore, the Korean was ready to run, figuring it had to be a trap. Any other explanation would be far too strange.

The woman could obviously tell that the man was troubled, but she appeared to find it amusing, judging by her smile's transformation into a smirk. Her tongue grazed her lips as she eyed her counterpart suggestively. "Welcome home."

"Uh huh," Hwoarang shifted his weight uneasily, looking around expecting to see a bunch of tree-huggers come at him, armed with bows and arrows. At least he'd know how to handle that. She had to be pissed after what he did, right?

Julia walked forward, edging the Korean backward into the corner beside the door, and pushing it shut as she closed in on him. It was dim, only candles were lit up, but they were everywhere. A romantic trap? Somewhere in the shadows, no doubt. But what could it be? Murder? No. Who ever heard of a psychotic homicidal hippie? A homicidal hippie! The thought almost caused Hwoarang to laugh, until he recalled what brought on the humorous thoughts. Damn reality!

Julia gently put her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her and into a deep kiss, confusing him even further. She started unbuckling his jeans, working slowly in hopes that he'd find the subtle teasing enchanting, and possibly use the time to get over his confusion and paranoia. It didn't work, however. He was far too suspicious to allow the enchantment of his girlfriend win him over.

"What are you doing, Julia?" Hwoarang caught her hand, putting a hold on her process with his pants. "Are you drunk?"

"As far as I know," Julia started, still clearly amused, "We haven't broken up. You're still my boyfriend, and I don't want a demon to ruin that for me. Now enough talk… I've got some convincing to do."

Hwoarang shoved her away, smiling bitterly. "So that's the trick, huh? All I had to do was get friendly with a few men, and suddenly I'm everything that you want." He sneered and turned on the light. Something was in his eyes when he glanced at his girlfriend. Though, she expected loathing and anger, all she got was disbelief, insult, and hurt. He went into his room and closed the door behind him.

Before Julia could even begin to decide what to do next, there was a knock on the door. She opened it to see Jin standing there, covered in sweat and blood. He staggered in, collapsing to the floor. One of his eyes was swollen and bloody, and his clothes were stained by a mixture of grass, mud, and blood. Something terribly bad had happened.

"Hwoarang! It's Jin!" Julia called out desperately.

The door to the bedroom opened and the Korean stepped out, taking in the sight of his rival, "I can't keep my eyes off him for even an hour without some asshole attacking him. Fucking Kazama." Hwoarang looked over at Julia, "Well, what you just standing there for? He's your dream boy, you help him. I got to go out and find whoever did this and kick their asses."

"I'm sure that's exactly what you plan on doing to them," Julia mumbled sarcastically.

Ignoring her, Hwoarang made his way back out the door. He was still exhausted from such a confusing day, but it was a relief to get away from his girlfriend. So who could've done that to Jin? Zekkai wasn't the type to make such a mess, but it was possible. So that would be the first route.

* * *

"I promise you. My beautiful human. It was not me. I was far too busy plotting that woman's death to bother myself with that boy." Zekkai showed no hint that the preceding was a joke. It walked past the Korean into the bathroom, glancing, irritated, at the blacked out mirrors. There was no vanilla soap left, and it cursed quietly as it washed it's hands with the cheap hotel brand. 

Hwoarang followed his lover, watching black gunk drain down the sink. Possibly the same stuff that covered the mirrors. The devil looked slightly upset about something. Though, questioning a demon when it appeared to be in a bad mood was not a path the Korean was all that willing to take. Instead he remained silent, watching curiously.

Zekkai eventually noticed the look it was getting, and decided to explain, "I got into a bit of a disagreement with Kazuya."

"What is that stuff?"

As if the thought was painful, Zekkai grimaced and responded by looking back up at the mirror, its eyes flaring angrily, and it quietly said, "Shoe polish." Grudgingly, it went back to scrubbing its hands and arms clean with the despised hotel soap.

"Then who?" Hwoarang was truly stumped, not knowing where to go next. Who would hurt the ever so beloved Jin Kazama, if not the demonic Mishima. "Heihachi? Would he have attacked so soon after his last failed maneuver? How the fuck could I deal with that? I can't just barge into the Mishima estate, and kick his ass. I'd be shot down before I reached the fucking gate."

Zekkai shrugged, "If it were Heihachi, your Kazama would most likely be in a lab somewhere, or even dead. I highly doubt he would make it all the way to your apartment without troops following him, unless, of course, he flew, but I don't suppose he had his wings out, did he?"

"What do I do?"

"You wait until he wakes up, and then you ask him who did it." Zekkai splashed a handful of soapy water on the mirror."

Hwoarang seemed to jump, startled by the suggestion. "I can't go back there. I can't even call there. Julia is there. I came home and she was there, candles lit, place clean… She tried to seduce me in order to win me back. I can't believe I was strong enough to resist in the first place, but if I go back, I don't know what will happen."

"You worry too much." Zekkai dismissed the worries with a wave of its hand. "Do you honestly think she would try it again while Kazama, Jin lays there, bleeding, unconscious, and whatnot? You're reasonably safe for now. Of course, if you would prefer that I went to check on him, that would be just as well."

"Shut the fuck up," Hwoarang grinned, knowing exactly what the demon meant by that. He sighed and sat on the edge of the tub, "I just… Don't want to face her. Jin didn't come to my door to be kept company by Julia, but what can I do?"

The devil groaned in annoyance, and turned to the redhead, "Alright. I'm going to do something for you that you'd better be thankful for, because it will never happen again. Never. I will go fetch your darling Jin, and I'll bring him here. But the moment he's recovered, and you're not around. I will not hesitate to take what's mine from him."

Before Hwoarang could respond, the demon was gone, slamming the door as it went.


	11. Immortal

A/N: Now that the information about Tekken 5 is out, this fiction is a little more inacurate then I had originally planned, but that's life! Um... I should probably warn you that this fic gets a little disturbing in future chapters... Not yet though... I think maybe I may need to write those disturbing parts out, but maybe I won't...

Crossfire

Chapter 11

Immortal

It was like gazing at a statue. Was it real? Who was it? A scarred canvas of flesh, covered with a fresh shine, having just got out of the shower. The red eyes weren't there, but it couldn't be Kazuya. It seemed too far above everything that it means to be human. That creature was a god. How could anyone say any different when faced with the amazing being?

In the next room, the product of the godly demon slept. The young Kazama had yet to wake and answer the Korean's questions, but with such a sight before him, Hwoarang was in no hurry. Instead, he leaned back on the hotel couch, trying his luck at telekinesis, willing that towel to fall and reveal the rest of that all-powerful being.

"Come here," Hwoarang ordered in a whisper.

Kazuya paused, considering the younger man. "I would rather not get the couch wet. Whatever it is you want, it can wait until I'm dressed."

"That's not a very reasonable request considering the reason I want you to come here is because you aren't dressed." Hwoarang grinned, and stood up. "I could stare at you for eternity, but I'd much rather have you right now. Your son shouldn't be waking up for a few hours now. If we're going to have some idle time, let's make it count."

"You're starting to sound like Zekkai. You spend too much time with it."

Hwoarang shrugged, "Alright, I'm sorry." He pointed to the couch, "I don't care how wet you think you are. I suggest you bend over and take what's coming to you like the bitch you are. That better?"

In answering the question, Kazuya smiled and pulled Hwoarang against him. The older man's mixed emotions were easy to conquer, despite the intensity of his jealousy. All he had to do was listen to that obscene humour that would have normally irritated him. Why did a devil have to steal the Korean's interest before Kazuya realized how significant the fiery young man was to him? It was sad, but he was glad he knew. In ways, he was thankful for his other half.

/How touching, my pet. I love you too./

Always there. That thing was always there watching over his shoulder. It would be so nice just to get away from it for awhile. At least he didn't have to look at it. Looking at it was always a cruel reminder of what he had become, and he didn't want to know. Though he loved the power the demon gave him, it was painful knowing what it had made him. It was painful seeing a hideous creature every time he looked in a mirror. Such was the price for his immortality.

/You don't know what to do with him. Morons shouldn't play with matches, so let someone who knows what they're doing have at him. You can… take notes./

The older man mentally cursed his inner demon, his thoughts beginning to rage, until something broke through the angry emotions. A pair of warm lips found his, and soon his towel was hitting the floor. Kazuya surrendered to his young counterpart, giving up the power for the first time, without hesitation.

Kazuya grudgingly released his grip, when Hwoarang pulled back a little.

"Mishima-sama…"

When Kazuya gazed into the Korean's eyes, he saw it. The reflection of that creature, and it was watching him with a twisted grin, greatly amused by how much the sight of it troubled its host. The anger returned, accompanied by frustration and defeat.

"Mishima-sama." Hwoarang's gaze turned to a look of concern, "What's wrong?"

"I… I can't get away from it."

"From what?"

Kazuya paused, trying to look into his lover's eyes without seeing Zekkai. "From me."

* * *

"Sleep well?"

Jin Kazama sat up in the strange hotel room, rubbing his eyes. The voice belonged to his father, but since no attack had been made, perhaps he was safe for the time being. But listening carefully, he was able to determine that he was alone in the room with that demonic man. A frightening fact. Where was Hwoarang?

Kazuya got up and opened the curtains, gazing out, as if in a pleasant trance. He almost smiled. It was obvious what was on his mind. That redhead must have been important to him if their relationship would be enough to slow the progress of attaining the monster in Jin. Did there really exist a remaining shred of Kazuya's soul? Was it really him? The man inside the demon was cruel and cold-blooded as it was, but there must have been a time when he was happy, before Heihachi slaughtered his tortured soul. Was it possible that Hwoarang was able to dig through the ruins, and find that long lost tranquility?

"Where is he?"

Without looking away from the beautiful view of the smog covered city, Kazuya responded, "Somewhere out there, I presume. I imagine he's found himself a new little hidden corner, and is sharpening his skills at self-mutilation." Kazuya seemed to resent his guess as a look of guilt came over him. "I lead him down that path when he was merely a toy of mine, but now… I'm afraid it may go too far."

Jin studied the pain shown by the way his father was standing. "You really like him, don't you?"

The smile returned, only it was different. It reflected the man the world turned Kazuya into. The smile was bordering on a sneer. Kazuya glanced back at his son. "You should hope so, because if not, it's plausible that I would take what's mine from you this second, or any second after. But even if you are safe for now, I only said I'd leave you alone until you were recovered, so don't get too comfortable."

"Does it bother you that he's with all these other people, and… things?"

Kazuya glanced at the shattered mirror hanging on the wall. "There are only two other people, and I intend to eliminate one, and Devil the other… Once I unify myself with the demon, there will be no other competition."

"So there's been two reasons why you're trying to kill me," Jin reasoned, "I was just a challenge that Hwoarang gave to himself to conquer, and still you're jealous. Amazing."

/I think you'd better shut him up./

In a thoughtless act of obedience, Kazuya lunged at his son, wrapping his scarred fingers around the boy's neck, and tightening his grip by the second. "It was my idea to get you involved in the first place, but he took it too far with you. If I finished you off right now, I'd be doing him a favour. I should have left you there in that stuffy apartment with the Chang girl. That conservative, deluded bitch is precisely your type."

The door swung open and Lee stepped in, lighting a cigarette. "Am I interrupting this touching display of father-son bonding?"

"Yes," Kazuya growled. "Get out."

Before Lee could make some less witty response, Jin's knee shot up, nailing Kazuya in the stomach. The young Japanese broke free. Once Kazuya was back to his feet, electrified fists came at him, landing three powerful blows to his chest, and sending him flying backwards into Lee. The marks appeared on Jin's forehead, chest, and arms as he ran at his father with a spin kick, knocking both Kazuya and Lee to the floor where he pounced on them, his fist out, getting Kazuya in the upper abdomen. Instead of striking again, the transformed Jin's wings slid out of his back with a sickening loud noise, and he crashed through the window, wings beating the air and taking him higher.

Lee helped Kazuya up, confused, and shocked, and slightly aggravated that there was a tear in his new shirt. The things he went through for the Mishima. He shook his head and picked up the lit cigarette from the floor, not wanting to be wasteful.

Kazuya dusted himself off, glaring at the shattered window, knowing that the manager of the hotel wouldn't be very happy once he knew how many things have been trashed. His stomach muscles were jumping with the electricity they were attacked with. It didn't hurt all that much, partly because the volts were somewhat numbing, and Jin was still not fully recovered so he was a little weaker than normal.. The boy was lucky, Kazuya thought, that he didn't break his word to Hwoarang and destroy Jin right there.

"Well…" Lee spoke, watching Kazuya, "We're finally alone."

/He can't be serious./

A grin crept upon Kazuya's face as he closed the distance between them. He pushed his fingers through Lee's hair. Their lips met briefly as the two edged slowly toward the bed.

* * *

It was strange that there was no one shooting at him as he made his way over the gate. He strutted down the driveway in plain sight, looking around subtly trying to tell whether or not he was being watched. As the Korean finally made it to the front of the large estate, he stopped, spotting Heihachi standing on the front balcony, sneering down at him, the old arms folded over his chest.

Hwoarang glowered up at the old man, already aware that Heihachi was, in fact, the one responsible for the horrible shape of his rival. "How many of your men did it take to rough him up? 60? Why don't you come down here and face me like a man?"

"Wait there." Heihachi turned and walked back into his estate. Eventually the large front doors opened and the old man stepped out into the sun, looking the Korean over with an almost frightening leer. "From what I hear, I'm the only one of my blood left who hasn't become infatuated with you. Why don't you show me what I'm missing?"

"Fucking prick," Hwoarang muttered, jumping into a spin kick, only to have his leg caught, and twisted. Though it did hurt, it didn't stop him from yanking his leg away, and attacking with his other leg. He turned his back to Heihachi and his leg shot out behind him, getting the old man in the ankle, and then coming in for seconds, getting the old man in the jaw, and sending him into the air.

"I think it's time for some discipline." Heihachi growled, getting to his feet.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Hwoarang demanded, loudly, building up power, setting his fists slowly, and spinning into a powerful kick, getting Heihachi in the shoulder. "Why ar you doing this to me? Everything is so close to falling apart as it is. I don't need you disturbing it!" Hwoarang's eyes were almost red with anger. He brought his heel down on the old man's chest. "I won't let you take them away from me." His voice became almost frantic as he slid into a low kick, "I won't let you!"

Heihachi, finally getting a chance to make his own move, tackled the youth to the ground, and kept him pinned there. He called for his men, and soon a crowd of security personnel were holding the Korean down, and sticking syringes filled with sedatives into him. Heihachi got up and watched calmly as Hwoarang shouted at him in his language. Words Heihachi wasn't familiar with, but he was aware of the general meaning of them.

The men dragged Hwoarang into the building as Heihachi ordered them to take him into the basement where the labs were. Now that he got the bait, it was only a matter of time before the demons came to fetch it.


	12. Nailed

A/N: Ok, I must apologize in advance... Please don't hate me. lol.

Crossfire

Chapter 12

Nailed

Noises came from behind the hotel door. Julia crept up to it, and pressed her ear against the wood, listening carefully for any hint that it may be her boyfriend in there. She had done an information search on the Internet, and eventually narrowed Kazuya's presence to that hotel room.

Once she heard more clearly, the muffled voices sometimes crying out, and other times grunting quietly, she knew what was happening. Julia felt a lump rise in her throat as she struggled to fight back tears. It was still so hard to believe. There was only one way to remove all doubt, and it wasn't a favourable idea. It was time to go in. Julia knew she had to see it with her own eyes if she was ever going to accept it.

The door flew open and she ran in, going immediately into the connecting room, and stopping mid-stride to see Kazuya on the bed with Lee underneath him. A thin covering of blankets fortunately covered exactly what she didn't want to see. His skin glistened in the poor lighting; sweat beading in the crevasses of his bare back. His rough thrusts were timed with a non-existent beat.

Even as Kazuya's gaze focused on her, the beat did not slow. His eyes were shinning and glossy as a smirk crossed his lips, spreading by the second. Julia spotted a flash of the demon inside him, hearing its unspoken plans for her. Lee was lost in his own little world of ecstasy. He didn't even seem to notice that the woman was there. It was possible that he just didn't care.

When she turned to leave, the door slammed shut in her face, and red eyes met her when she looked back to the two men on the bed. Lee was back in reality, his face clouded with annoyance at seeing that the demon had taken over. It almost looked like he was afraid, but he hid it well. He glanced briefly at Julia, as if she were just a plain fixture in the room. His face was still flushed from the time he had with Kazuya.

The demon flew out from under the covers, and slammed Julia against the door. "What were you expecting to find when you decided to push your way in here? Your beloved boyfriend in the midst of my internal abuse? Or perhaps you were hoping to find him in great pain, begging you to take him away from me. I am terribly sorry to disappoint you, Miss Chang, but you can't always get what you want. If we could, you would have been dead long ago."

"What are you going to do?" Julia asked in a whisper, no longer attempting to hide her own fear.

The creature laughed and shrugged, "Maybe I should show you what I frequently put that darling redhead through. Would you like to be in his shoes for a few hours? Would you like to understand what he likes so much about the pain I inflict upon him?"

A tear finally escaped her eye as she looked away from those blinding eyes. "All I want is to know that he's safe. I haven't heard from him… Why isn't he here? I've looked everywhere, his favourite bar, his apartment, and here… Would you please just tell me where he is? Tell me he's safe…"

"If I were him I'd be busy hiding from you," The demon sighed and slipped a robe over his body, finally covering itself up, not exactly sure why. It looked at the shattered window and remembered the earlier conversation with the boy. Somehow, it knew where he was. Even after Hwoarang said himself what a stupid idea it would be, he did it anyway. The eyes faded a little, but not completely, and Kazuya's upset voice came through, slightly tainted by the demon, "He went after my father… Now I have two choices. Save the boy, and hand over the devil gene to my father on a silver platter, or let the boy take care of the situation himself, and possibly spare millions of lives… A choice between strangers and one confused Korean." As if the choice was obvious, Kazuya rolled his eyes and quickly slipped pants on and disposed of the robe. He soon was headed out the door.

* * *

Eventually the painful visit ended. Hwoarang watched through one swollen eye as Heihachi left the room. A guard was sent in to watch him, even though he was chained to a chair. He was thankful that Heihachi didn't really want to see what it was that Jin and Kazuya liked about him, but there were some other people he wasn't afraid to show himself to, for a price, of course.

It was a good thing that he recognised the guard as a man that had been checking him out hours before. Although, it was a very risky situation. This man seemed to be one of Heihachi's most trusted, and most skilled. He studied the man for a while before finally deciding to risk it. There wasn't exactly much to lose. His own life was on the line no matter what route he chose to take; it was just a matter of which way he would prefer to go down. Why not go out with a bang?

The name sewn on the sleeve of the man's uniform was Danas. Well, the guy sure wasn't Asian, so English would probably be the best language to use. "Hey, Danas," Hwoarang said, surprising himself with the poor shape of his own voice, "I don't suppose you got any ciggies on you, huh?"

"Yeah," Danas glanced uneasily at the door before walking over and sitting beside Hwoarang. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket, and slipped one into the Korean's mouth. After a short search for his lighter, he put the tiny flame to the tip of the cigarette, and looked the prisoner over. There was nothing subtle about this guy. Nothing hiding behind those confident eyes. He even wore his fears of his boss on his sleeve.

Hwoarang looked around the room, a pain shooting through his spine every time he moved his head, but that was easy to ignore. "Are there any cameras in here?"

The question seemed to leave the man amused. He smiled and nodded, " Heihachi isn't dumb enough to leave his son's young lover alone in a room without taking appropriate security measures. I know what you're thinking," A playful glimmer shone in the man's eyes as he brushed Hwoarang's cheek with the tips of his fingers, "That maybe I'm your ticket out of here. That maybe, if you play your cards right you can somehow convince me to betray my boss. Well let me tell you something, Blood Talon." He grinned, "It takes more than a pretty face to master my game."

"Right now my face ain't all that pretty, so naturally if that was the only thing I had going for me, I wouldn't bother." Hwoarang's lip curled into a smirk as his eyes wandered the body before him. "Now I'm going to let you in on a little secret. The more it hurts, the more I like it." His voice went down to a whisper, "You can hurt me, can't you?"

"I never really liked that old man, anyway," The man walked around to the back of Hwoarang's chair and leaned over to kiss the Korean's neck. "And those bruises on your face look good on you."

Hwoarang's brow furrowed with concern, "Uh, Danas, What about the cameras?"

The grin on the other man's face turned into something more along the lines of the look he got from Zekkai all those evenings ago on the roof of that building. The cold-blooded, hungry, almost psychotic gaze. It was not a good sign. But his question was answered quickly. "A couple buddies of mine are in the control room. There's absolutely nothing to worry about in that area. Your concern should be about me. You see; I've got secrets of my own. Ones not even Heihachi knows about, and…" He paused as a knock came at the door, "When someone has to convince me of something, they have to convince my brothers. Oh, and call me Eryx."

'Eryx' Walked over and opened the door, letting in two larger guys, one more of Jin's build, the other much more muscular, and much larger in every other area that could be seen. Hwoarang swore under his breath as he took in what had to be his biggest mistake yet. He was already in horrible shape from Heihachi's meaningless beatings and now he had to handle whatever these guys had planned. He thrived on pain, but three guys just seemed like too much. It made him nauseas just thinking about what he was in for.

"Would you like me to introduce them?"

Hwoarang shook his head, faking a playful smirk, "Don't bother, I only need one name to scream."

The two nameless guys slapped Danas on the back, teasing him in a strange language that Hwoarang guessed was Greek. Eryx ignored them, his eyes fixed on the Korean with intense curiosity. He had expected the prisoner to be afraid once seeing his brothers, but this guy appeared to be looking forward to the experience. Before, he had absolutely no intention of helping the kid out, but he was beginning to like this guy.

"Who's first?" Hwoarang asked, as if it were a dare.

The two newcomers stepped forward, and one unlocked the Korean's chains, but he wasn't free. They removed a plank in the floor and locked the chains around something beneath it. Hwoarang wasn't able to see what it was, but he didn't care. There was much more slack in the chains, and he decided that if things got too heavy, he could always strangle one of them. Though, more slack was good for more then that reason, he was actually able to move around more, which would give him a bit of control in whatever situation would unfold.

Hwoarang winked at Eryx and nodded at the floor beside him, "Why don't you come and take a seat. I really don't like to wait."

Eryx complied, accepting the Korean lips on his, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But the prisoner didn't seem like one to beat around the bush, and in confirmation of that, Eryx soon found his uniform in a bundle on the floor next to him, and the red hair scaling down his body in a concatenation of light kisses. The boy meant business, and it was almost upsetting merely being a business trip to the fiery redhead. A path to that all-important promotion. But as those warm Korean lips closed around his length, all those upsetting thoughts languished.

Had the other two not been there, Hwoarang was sure his job would have been a lot easier. He could feel cold hands struggle with removing his pants. The hands belonged to one of the larger men, and soon that man was astride him. Déjà vu set in, and Hwoarang couldn't help but remember the evening that Kazuya violated him in front of Jin. The humiliating memory was pushed aside with some difficulty, but he still didn't allow it to bother him. He had completed the main part of his plan. When he removed Eryx's uniform, he had taken the keys and now held them tightly in his hand, trying to think of a way to get the other two out of there so he could start with the escaping part.

Hwoarang caught the eye of Eryx, and held it even as he felt himself penetrated by one of the other men. The man behind him was nothing compared to what he was used to, and he found himself wishing for his Zekkai. Even as the man continued to thrust, Hwoarang was annoyed by the lack of force, power, and authority that he was typically assailed with. The nameless man didn't even seem to have any confidence, despite his lame attempts at faking it.

"You gotta be kidding," Hwoarang whispered to Eryx, "To think I was worried about this guy. He doesn't have what it takes to handle me. This intimidation endeavour would probably be a bit more successful if your brothers were a bit more experienced at this kind of thing." He kissed the tip of the length in front of him, "I'm sure you could do much better."

"How far are you willing to go to get out of here?"

"Wherever you want to take me," Hwoarang replied with a smirk.

Eryx nodded at his brothers, and soon they were grudgingly heading out the door. He looked down at the Korean and thought for a moment, "Unlock yourself." Upon seeing the confused look, he clarified, "I know you took the keys, they always do. Now unlock yourself." Once his order was obeyed, he slowly instructed, "Amaze me."

It was rare that a prisoner got that far, but when they did, they never got much farther, typically not having much of an imagination. He wasn't even sure what to do if this guy succeeded at this stage of the game. It had never happened before in all his Four years of working for the Mishima Zaibatsu. Of course it wasn't all that often that a prisoner decided to try their luck at convincing him to help them escape. His mind was already reeling to find a plan for the next stage of the party. Though his thoughts were far from apparent on his face.

Hwoarang grinned and moved his way back up the firm Greek body. As he took the other man's mouth in his, he reached up with his hands, and carefully slipped the chains onto Eryx's wrists, and locked them into place. Though Eryx wasn't worried. That had happened before, and his brothers were waiting right outside the room, prepared for such a thing. The weird thing was, this guy didn't try to make a break for it. Instead, the redhead pushed the nicely tanned legs apart, and licked his fingers, confusing Eryx to an almost troubled point. Hwoarang reached down, and gingerly delved one of his fingers into the man. Eryx gasped, never having been in the situation before.

Their eyes locked again and the Korean added another finger, gently working the muscles looser. He ran his tongue up Eryx's neck, to the lobe of his ear.

The door swung open, banging on the wall, and one of the nameless men ran in, "Heihachi's back! He's on his way down. You have about two minutes to get dressed, if even!" He looked at the chains constricting his Eryx's wrists and shook his head, "Oh you're in deep shit, dude."

Eryx looked at Hwoarang, curious to see how he'd handle it, but Hwoarang didn't worry. He simply unlocked Eryx and snatched his own pants up off the floor, casually pulling them on, and then sitting back on the chair, "I'm cursed. Something always interrupts me. We'll finish this later." He winked at his captor.

The nameless man proceeded to chain the Korean back up as Eryx clumsily got back into his uniform. As if on cue, Heihachi stepped through the door the moment Eryx finished doing up his last button. The nameless man glanced at Heihachi and grinned, expertly hiding the panic he just experienced. Hwoarang glared up at the old man, not having to pretend to be pissed. It was angering enough that his time with the guard was interrupted.

"Have my men been hospitable?" Heihachi asked coyly.

"Are you going to kill me anyway after you get your offspring?"

Heihachi smiled and shrugged, "I guess it all depends on what kind of mood I'm in." He paused and eyed Eryx, "You look a little red, Danas. Has our boy here been shooting his mouth off to you?"

Hwoarang looked over at the flushed man, and noticed he was holding his hat low in his hands, as if trying to hide something. The Korean had to struggle to keep from grinning. It would have been a miracle if Heihachi didn't notice. In a desperate attempt at a cover up, that even surprised himself, Hwoarang laughed loudly, "How the fuck can I bark at him if he left me with his meathead friends? I think was entertaining some chick while he was supposed to be working. He's been a really bad boy. I think you should punish him… Can I watch?"


	13. Evil United

A/N: Now, I'm not entirely sure whether or not I will be continuing Crossfire after chapter 16 because… well… Let's be honest, folks. This is slightly a PWP, and I'm sure its getting old. Oh! And this chapter has the disturbing part, though it may only be implied, I still think its quite disturbing…

In answer to those many reviews about Hwoarang's slutty behaviour… You're right, and I don't mean for it to happen, but I just go where the fic takes me! lol

Crossfire

Chapter 13

Evil United

Going right in wouldn't help anybody. If it had been anyone other than Heihachi, Kazuya would have turned himself in for the release of the boy, but Heihachi wasn't exactly known for keeping his word. What could a person do in that situation? Even a devil would be screwed barging into that place if it had a dozed minions at its side. He knew he could take his father with not much difficulty if it were a man-to-man battle. He had done it before, but it wasn't like that. This wasn't a battle. It was a war and war called for strategy. He needed a plan that would outsmart his father. How could Heihachi be tricked?

Across the table was Lee Chaolan, smoking and eyeing ladies walking by. Could Lee be the answer? Was there anyway to incorporate the past relationships into the plan? There were some things that happened all those years ago that Lee avoided talking about, but it didn't take a genius to guess. Once Heihachi's name was mentioned, the successful middle-aged Chaolan would look more like a scared, confused youth whose scars were all too visible. Though the window to the tortured soul would only remain open for a second.

"Well," Lee looked quizzically at Kazuya. "You could always forget the child ever existed and just move on with your life."

Kazuya frowned, "Don't refer to him as a child. It makes me feel like a pedophile."

"Honestly, Kazuya!" Lee rolled his eyes and put his cigarette out. "You were nearly thirty when the boy was born! If you had started this love affair a couple years earlier, you would have legally been a pedophile!"

"Oh that's rich, Mr. I-eat-seventeen-year-old-girls-for-breakfast! Hwoarang is an adult. He is of legal age, and he's the only person so much younger than me that I've been involved with. You, on the other hand, make corporate whores out of minors on a weekly basis. Now don't you ever dream about making these hypocritical accusations ever again, because I am not, nor will I ever be in the mood for your bullshit." Kazuya paused, expecting a calm, witty comeback, when no reply came he slowly continued, "Now just think about this for a minute. He's in the estate, tied up somewhere, desperately trying to think of a way out when the door opens and in walks Heihachi. What would be going through his head?"

A strange saturnine look came over the silver-haired devil as he answered quietly, "Nothing. If he was smart, he'd know better than to think."

Kazuya studied Lee, perturbed by the younger man's secret past. He briefly licked his lips, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't anger anyone. "Chaolan… What did my father do to you?"

Without another word, Lee stood up, dropping a handful of change on the table for the waitress, and headed out the door.

* * *

It had been nearly two days since the encounter with the Greek brothers, and they hadn't returned since. During those two days there had been one visit that made him sick just thinking about it. Though he fought the whole time, eventually, with the help of a few other men, Heihachi had his way.

The first evening, Hwoarang had been transferred to a more comfortable room. The chains were removed, but the door was made like one from a institution. It wasn't barred, it was merely made of a strong metal, a doorknob that couldn't possibly be broken off, and a lock that was fool-proof. Those facts were eventually learned through experience. It was a surprisingly nice room, considering he was supposed to be a prison. A comfortable mattress, his own bathroom, there was even a stereo.

Hwoarang sat on the floor, prying a sliver of wood from the floorboards. As he heard the click of the door being unlocked, he jumped up and hid the sliver under the mattress, near the edge where he'd have easy access. It wasn't large enough to do any major damage if used in the usual way, but there were more extreme plans for it. The old bastard would regret the day he decided to fuck with the Blood Talon.

He sat down on the bed, and watched the eldest Mishima walk into the room. "To what do I owe this honour?"

"My son and grandson haven't come for you yet." Heihachi said, smiling, "Some of my men claim you're quite friendly with a number of people. A Chang, Chaolan, and a devil. Funny how out of all those people, there hasn't been one attempt to come get you. Perhaps they've abandoned you. Left you for me to do whatever I please, and believe me, I will. If you ever do come out of this alive, I should hope lessons have been learned… It's amazing how many morons my offspring attract, but I would have expected better from Lee."

Hwoarang scowled, "I'm not friendly with that prick! That suggestion is almost as disgusting as you are!"

"I see the lessons haven't quite registered yet. Allow me to enforce them."

"Stay the fuck away from me, or I'll lobotomize your pansy ass!"

Heihachi smirked, walking over and touching the silky red hair, not phased by his prey's typical attitude. "I can hardly blame my son. After over two decades of studying his own blood with only the companionship of researchers and scientists, who wouldn't be tempted to find a inappropriately young paramour? At his age I had a few… Now, shall I call my guards in to help me, or will you cooperate?"

"Well I don't know for sure. Why don't you come a little closer and we'll see what happens?" Hwoarang replied with a threatening undertone in his voice.

"Sir." Heihachi spun around and Hwoarang tilted his head to see around the old man. In the doorway stood Eryx, holding a loaded gun over his shoulder. "I know you didn't want to be disturbed, but this concerns the prisoner. A friend of his was caught trying to sneak in. I assumed you would like a word with the person."

Heihachi sighed, irritated, "Have they been searched completely and questioned?" Upon Eryx nod, the old man groaned and walked out the door, shoving Eryx out of his way.

Once the old man was completely out of sight, Eryx rushed into the room, and looked Hwoarang over, noticing the lack of any emotion or expression when the dark Korean eyes landed on him. "I, uh, was punished. Heihachi got suspicious and decided to go through the tapes in the control room for the first time since I started working in this hellhole. Now I'm watch on the graveyard shift. I'm sorry. I can't help you now."

"Punished you?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Everyone who has been in a high rank, working personally with the creep knows what I mean. I just… I had no idea it would happen to a prisoner. He's never done that before."

Hwoarang shrugged, "Forget about it. Soon enough he'll get what he deserves."

"You got a plan?"

"Always… But this new guest probably just fucked it all up." He paused, contemplating the scene, "There should always be a plan C… Could I borrow your knife for a second? Please?"

Eryx hesitated for a moment before pulling a large knife out of his belt, and handing it over to the Korean, who was already rushing across the room as he took it. He slid under a small table, and pried a piece of metal off the bottom. Just in case he couldn't trust the other man, he hid the piece under the cushion of a chair. He'd use it later to get more wood off the floor, and attempt to sharpen whatever he could get. A quick smile crossed his face, but disappeared as he handed the knife back and tried on his angry face for Heihachi to come back to.

The two young men looked at each other, amicably, one understanding, the other fascinated. They waited in silence, Eryx changing his stance so that it appeared that he was unimpressed with the other man, in case Heihachi walked in without warning. He didn't have the keys to lock the door so he had a perfect excuse why he stayed there. Someone had to keep an eye on the captive.

Soon the waiting came to an end as Heihachi walked in, tossing the new prisoner to the floor roughly. Julia Chang. "Looks like you have a new roommate, boy. Come Danas. We have much to discuss. Perhaps soon, you'll be joining these two in this beautiful room."

"What?" Eryx followed his boss out the door, and spoke, startled, as he watched the old man lock the prisoners in, "But sir, I didn't do anything… Did I?"

"Silence. Come."

Hwoarang listened to the fading footsteps before turning to his girlfriend, not entirely sure of how to react. He helped her up and watched as she looked him over.

"What have they done to you? You're in horrible shape!" She touched his face, tears in her eyes, "Kazuya wanted Lee to come here and get caught so he could talk to you, but Lee refused, so I came. They tried to stop me, but I couldn't stand the thought of you all alone in here. Kazuya wants you to know that he's working on getting you out of here. And… Zekkai sends its… his… love."

Hwoarang hugged her lightly, and kissed the top of her head, "You couldn't have had better timing. Don't get me wrong. I'm pissed you'd do something so stupid like purposely get caught by the big man, but thanks." He sighed, the disturbing thoughts of what could have happened swimming through his head. Why were they so hard to block out? "I'm sorry, Julia. I shouldn't have done this to you."

"I should be the one who's sorry. I drove you to them…"

"Julia…" He paused, deciding against a confession, not wanting to add tension to the room. "You wouldn't happen to have a pack of smokes with you, right?"

She smiled and shook her head, "No. I've been wanting you to quit for a long time anyway. This should be good for you."

* * *

The sky was exceptionally bright for such an hour, lit up by the moon. Not a cloud could be seen. So much beauty that was being wasted, for there was a certain splash of colour it was missing. The colour red. Without it, it was nothing. It was nugatory. Everything was nothing. Beauty was merely average without those dark Korean eyes gazing without so much as a hint of interest. That human was incomparably beautiful, and that was a depressing fact when the boy was hidden away by an old creep, being subjected to who-knows-what.

Zekkai gazed up at the moon, hoping the site would stimulate a plan. From its spot perched on top a tree, it had a perfect view of the infamous Mishima Estate. It watched the windows carefully, hoping for a glimpse of the Korean, just one sign that the boy was alright.

As it stretched it's wings, it noticed what it thought was a dark cloud out of the corner of its eye. Upon further inspection, the cloud became a bird, and began growing larger as it soared toward Zekkai. Once hearing the call of the mysterious bird, a smile crossed the creatures face. Its other half had decided to pay him a visit. So it waited for the demonic youth to arrive at the destination, and soon it did.

The brooding man, normally known as Jin Kazama, landed on a tree top across from the other demon. But something was missing. The eyes were human. Strange. The marks were there. The fierce black wings were there, but there was no demon in those chasten eyes. Could it be possible that Kazuya's son was able to unite with the demon in merely a few years when Kazuya's been trying for over two decades? No, it was just a small bit of control the child must have acquired. Zekkai remained still, expectantly.

"Heihachi would never expect for the both of us to come in together."

Zekkai smirked at the younger demonic version of its host. "Are you proposing we work together?"

"I'm sorry. Was I wrong to think you'd do anything in your power to help Hwoarang? Because if you'd rather allow Heihachi to continue feeding off him until you think up a better plan, I could just go." The young eyes glimmered a mild colour of red for a moment, "Of course, I don't think he would mind all that much. The longer he's in there, the closer he's getting to that girl you despise so much."

"No need to get nasty. I didn't say I wouldn't do it. Now tell me how you suppose we get in. Of course their bullets are mere annoyances, but I'm sure Heihachi's expecting us to think that way. I'd bet he's got his pet scientists to cook up some tacky gadget that would paralyse us, sedate us, etc."

Jin looked over the building, carefully, "First we coax him out, and while he's out here looking for us, we break in. I've been watching the place for awhile. Security is heaviest in the back, but most of the guards there are hidden. Maybe one of us should distract most of them while the other goes in… But that's way too risky considering the way grandfather works. He's probably more then prepared to be faced with on of us in there."

"Wait," Zekkai turned his head, listening intently to the surroundings, "Footsteps… It's Chaolan. What the hell does he think he's doing here? Come on." Zekkai growled, diving into the forest with the younger man following. They landed in a tree above Lee's head.

The silver-haired devil casually glanced up at them, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "If your putting Kazuya's body into this dangerous situation, I think I should see if I could do anything to help add to your chances of success. Besides, even though I hate the kid, I still can't stand the thought of him being at Heihachi's disposal. If memory serves correctly, you can find the brat in the basement." He paused and looked at Jin, "Wow. This is really going to be one disturbing family reunion."

TBC……..


	14. Inimical Salvation

Crossfire

Chapter 14

Inimical Salvation

Once again, chains bound the Korean to a chair, only this time the case was different. It was much different. They were in a lab and the American woman was strapped to a vertical metal slab, facing her boyfriend. Of course a small sharp stick was clutched in Hwoarang's hand, hidden from sight, yet ready to do its job. In his other hand, he held a single key that Eryx slipped to him earlier that day. The only problem was, he wondered if he would get the chance to use his escape tools.

Heihachi stood between them, considering them both in turn. He eventually came to face the girl, a thirst for corruption in his sneer. It was obvious what the old man had decided to do. Though the Korean was almost relieved that he wasn't chosen to be humiliated once again, thinking he had been through more then his share of embarrassments, but he knew he couldn't let it happen to Julia. No self-respecting man would allow something like that.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Do you want to take her place?"

Hwoarang didn't answer, looking away in a false act of fear, not wanting to look suspiciously eager. Once the old man ran his hand down Julia's body, stopping on a hip, Hwoarang spoke up again, "Hey grand pappy! Why you bothering with her? She's small and inexperienced. Oh, I get it. I'm too much for you. You're old Viagra pushing ass couldn't handle me a second time without a team of medics nearby."

Julia gasped, and stared at the Korean in shock. "Second time?" She glared at Heihachi and started struggling, making failed attempts at yanking herself out of the straps. "What did you do to my boyfriend? As if he wasn't damaged enough by his parents, you had to go and do whatever the hell you did?" She barred her teeth, kicking furiously. "He's probably going to need therapy now you Jackass! I'll Kill You!! Argh!"

Heihachi quirked a brow at the girl. "Would you like to see what I did to him? He seems to want me to repeat the scene for you."

"No! I won't just kill you!" She shrieked, "I'll rip those hideous eyes out of their sockets and make you eat them! Look at me like that again, and your eyes won't be the only useless things I'll make you eat!"

Impressed. Hwoarang couldn't help but grin, despite the seriousness of the scene. The grin didn't stay long. As the old Mishima approached him, he stared up, defiantly holding the man's gaze. The moment of judgement was on its way, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was ready. It would have been no problem if Julia wasn't there, or if he wasn't chained up, but with both factors present, he had to be very careful. Luckily he had learned stealth when he was in the military, though he never had to pull off something like that.

Soon, a knife was used to remove his shirt, for removing it by normal means would require unchaining. So the T-shirt that was given to the Korean by one of the guards was left hanging off his shoulders, his scarred chest fully exposed. He flinched as cold fingers brushed against a fresh cut that had been self-inflicted that morning when Julia was still asleep. The fingers moved on slowly, savouring the feel of the young body.

Hwoarang tried to lock eyes with Julia, wanting her to focus on his eyes instead of what was happening to him, but she couldn't be reached, lashing out desperately trying to free herself. His own focus was distracted as a cold blade slid down the centre of his torso. He watched it stop at his blood-stained pants, and cringed, struggling to keep himself from lashing out before it was a little safer.

"Sometime this century, gramps. I've seen glaciers fuck faster then you." The Korean taunted, getting very impatient with the old man.

Heihachi smiled, "I don't want the girl to miss anything."

* * *

Eryx watched as a large black winged creature flew over top, landing on the roof. Secretly he hoped that he had been the only one to see it, but he was out of luck. A couple of the guards ran into the building, ordering the security inside to alert Heihachi about the guest. The creature swooped down from the roof, and flew right past him, snatching a security officer off the ground, and flying back up. Outside the estate quickly became chaotic with preparations that they had all been trained for, yet most were too panicked to follow through correctly. Many men ran screaming inside, while other started shooting aimlessly into the air.

Eryx simply stood there, watching the roof, willing the bullets to miss their unseen target. He recognised the creature, for he had been there that day when Jin Kazama had grown wings and crashed through the wall, using his grandfather to cut the path. That day, Eryx had barely made it out of that place alive, having been the first one the demon attacked, but strangely, he was almost glad to see the guy.

On the other side of the Estate, most of the guards had left to where the action was taking place, leaving only four guys behind to defend their stations. Silently Lee and Kazuya – Zekkai having handed control over for fear of the red eyes being spotted at a bad time – snuck up behind two of the men, and snapped their necks. The other two were quickly silenced with identical kicks to the throat. The adoptive brothers were free to continue inside.

The hallways were deserted, but they could hear shouts from other floors, and coming from open windows. It was like a prison riot, only without the alarms going off. Lee lead the way, since Kazuya was not familiar with the route in the dark, having not been allowed in the basement.

Once they found their way to the underground laboratories, Zekkai wordlessly alerted Kazuya to a crowd of people heading their way. Lee, seeing his adoptive brother's face, grabbed Kazuya and pulled him into a dark room. Not much later, footsteps pounded by, and as Kazuya peeked out, he spotted Heihachi being ushered down the corridor by a flock of his men, blood gushing from his ear as he shouted orders in Japanese.

Kazuya couldn't help but smile, positive that his Hwoa-kun was responsible. It was a moment of pride that lasted only until Lee pulled him back out to the brightly lit corridor. They ran, both looking into random doors as they went. Eventually they came to a locked door and looked through the tiny bars that may have supposed to be a window.

At first all that could be seen was Julia's tear streaked face. It looked like she was pleading with someone in between desperate sobs. She was strapped to a slab, blood dripping down from her arms and legs from useless struggles. When they moved a little farther to the side, they were able to see Hwoarang, covered in blood, his shirt torn, and his pants in a heap on the floor. His exposed body was covered in bruises that extended to his face, but the most troubling part of the picture was that he was unconscious.

Eryx came up behind them, and pushed them aside, startling both men into fighting stance. Once they realized that he wasn't about to scream for his boss, or try to play hero and attack them, they relaxed, though continued to watch him intently, not entirely sure what to think. Maybe it was a new guy, following orders to keep an eye on the two prisoners, but as he unlocked the door and stepped aside, it was obvious he knew they weren't supposed to be there.

"You better work quickly. There are men heading up to the roof to put an end to your decoy. They've got sedatives specially engineered for a person with the devil gene, and I'm afraid Hwoarang and the girl are in need of some medical attention."

In subconscious obedience, Zekkai was in control in a matter of milliseconds. It sprinted into the room and to its young lover. Lee realized that the girl would be his responsibility to release. He quickly found his knife and went to work slicing off the straps. Unfortunately they were made out of a material composed of metal fibres, so it would take forever to saw off just one of them. Not wanting to bother the demon with his dilemma, Lee began rummaging through drawers for either instructions on how to undo the straps, or a sharper tool to cut them with.

Zekkai stood, staring at the boy, at a loss of what to do. It didn't want to disturb its lover, well aware of the great need the boy had for sleep. Should it just take him up in its arms and carry him out? No, not with him in that condition. The boy at least needed some clothes. It turned around to find Julia, who had grown quiet since they came in, watching it. So Zekkai decided to ask, "What happened?"

"Heihachi happened," Julia growled, but her anger was not directed at the demon. She cringed and continued, "That old bastard undressed Hwoarang, and started … kissing him. Then out of nowhere, Hwoarang's hand shot out and stabbed Heihachi in the ear with a stick that I had no idea he had! A second later Heihachi leaped on him and started pounding him until he passed out… Is he still alive?"

"Yes. He's breathing steadily." Zekkai looked back to the redhead just in time to see the dark Korean eyes flutter open.

Hwoarang smiled weakly upon seeing his demon. He swallowed despite the difficulty of it, and coughed. "Well now that's a sight for sore eyes." He noticed Lee searching through the drawers and decided to give a little help, "Hey pansy, that blue panel on the wall slides open. Behind it is a bunch of switches. The orange switch will un-strap her."

As Lee freed the girl using his new knowledge, he glanced at the redhead with a weary gaze, "I see you've been down here before."

"Take her outside," Zekkai ordered, "Wave Jin down, and get somewhere safe. We'll be right behind you."

Lee sighed and obeyed without argument. He helped Julia off the slab and once he remembered her wounds, proceeded to snatching some gauze off a table, and helping the girl out the door while he applied the gauze to her wounds.

"Your beauty is becoming quite the curse, Hwoarang." Zekkai walked over to a sink, and found a bowl to fill with water and a rag to dip in it. It went back to its young lover and began cleaning the blood off The Korean flesh. "I've found myself wishing that I would finally grow tired of this drama you've brought into my life, but I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to grow tired of you. Even in such a horrible state as this, you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on."

Hwoarang shrugged, "It's not hard to explain that. I'm covered in blood, and, well, let's face it, red's my colour."

Zekkai smiled and kissed the Korean lightly, avoiding the blood for fear that most of it originally came from its host's father. It rinsed the rag in the bowl, watching as the water swirled to a cloudy shade of red. "Indeed… Tell me, why is it you came here even with the knowledge of the impossibility of facing Heihachi?"

"To humiliate myself. To get fucked by the last of the Mishimas. I don't know." Hwoarang laughed bitterly and shook his head in bewilderment, "I had thought through my whole plan and decided that it was incredibly stupid, then the next thing I know, I'm scaling the gate, and walking to the building out in the open like a complete Jackass. I'm sorry, Zekkai. If I'd have realized what kind of danger I would be putting you in, I like to think that I wouldn't have done it." He paused, and looked over at the door, "Now what's this about Jin being here. You two didn't honestly work together, did you?"

In a moment of resentful remembrance, the demon nodded, still trying to clean off the boy. "He suggested it, and really, I hadn't much of a choice. If I took that moment to claim my other half, I'd have been dooming you in the process. Now I suppose we should get out of here before Heihachi decides to return. I don't imagine that friend of yours can do anything to hold him off."

"Friend? What frie… Is that who let you in here? Danas?"

"If Danas is a young Foreign boy, then yes."

Hwoarang closed his eyes and leaned back, a smirk forming on his lips. "So he did end up helping me after all. And you thought my pretty face was a curse. Ha! This shit I'm always getting myself into can be blamed on my ego, but don't let me catch you dissing my prettiness again… Is prettiness a word?"

Zekkai grinned, amused. "I love it when you threaten me."

"Shut up. Seriously, man. Is it a word?"

* * *

The sun was finally up, and the doctors were finally finished operating on the Mishima's ear. The old man stood in the centre of the dojo, waiting for the one he had called on. Soon enough, the desired man stepped through the sliding doors, and bowed his head, well aware that he was found out. Heihachi must have went through the tapes of last night and found him helping the infamous demons.

Heihachi crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at his formerly highest ranked officer. He should have known better than to put a 26-year-old so high up, but he had never suspected a Danas would betray him. The Danas family had been aiding him for generations, and for the first time, one rebelled.

"Why aren't you apologizing?"

Eryx glanced up briefly, "Because I have no regrets."

"Well then why don't I give you some?" Heihachi growled, walking across the room and sliding the door shut. He glared at the young man with debauch eyes as he ordered quietly, "Remove your filthy deceitful garments. Now, Danas. You do not want to keep me waiting."

The young Greek man swallowed hard, frightened, yet standing firm, as he pulled a gun out of a holster at his side. He pulled the hammer back, put it to his head, and took a deep breath, not allowing the tears of fear to escape his eyes. No. When he was going, it would be with dignity, and finally standing up to the old creep was freeing in its own. "My only regret will be dieing in a uniform that represents you. I'd shoot you instead, but I'm afraid that I might find out that you really are human, and that would be the scariest thing in the world. I will die thinking that you are not of human flesh nor animal. You are evil in its purest form, and therefore, I will die happy."

"You haven't the guts."

"I have. If it wasn't for that Korean, I'd be fucked right now. Shaming my family, shaming myself, and shaming the fuck out of human kind! I saw what you did to him… I saw the way he struggled, the way he wouldn't back down like so many others do on a regular basis. At first I thought he was foolish, but then… He survived. Not only did he survive, but he was able to come out of that knowing that he didn't surrender. He got to keep his soul, but what the fuck do I have? You stole my soul long ago, and I won't let you take any more! He sees things differently then others, and that rare perspective of his is infectious. Everything looks different, but I know it's still the same. Now I see that it doesn't have to be." He smiled faintly as he blew Heihachi a kiss, "See you in hell."

He pulled the trigger.

TBC…


	15. Moral Standing

A/N: Now I've started this chapter a few million times (slight exaggeration) only to delete the whole thing and keep on starting over again, so if you're reading this, I assume I have finally stuck with something. Hmmm… I wonder if the star of my tale has?

Crossfire

Chapter 15

Moral Standing

Four in the morning. Four-thirty seven to be exact. The sky was practically darker than it had been at midnight. A storm was on its way, and it was going to be a bad one. It wasn't foggy, yet the usual florescent glare from the street was barely visible, and failed to make even the slightest dent in the dark bedroom. A slight figure on the bed appeared to be sleeping while another sat on the edge, holding his head in his hands.

Hwoarang stood up for only a moment before turning to lie back down. Storms had a tendency to make him unusually restless among other things. He slid his hand over the bare waist beside him, blindly mapping the soft curves with his fingers. "Did I wake you?"

Julia smiled at him through the darkness, "What makes you think I'm awake."

"Your breathing changed," He replied; his map continuing down to the woman's legs. "We're getting a storm soon. I'm going to go to the dojo down the street. I'll be back in a few hours with a semi-accurate forecast."

"Honey," Julia touched her boyfriend gently on the arm. "You wouldn't let Dev- Zekkai hurt me, would you? He says he wants me dead because of how he thinks I treat you, but that I could handle. When he accuses me of it, it's like he's using those words as substitutes for something else. His voice is full of jealous rage. I think he hates me because we're still together, and the anger of a jealous demon scares me a little more than that of a protective demon."

Hwoarang quirked a brow as he slipped on his jeans. "I'm not so sure Zekkai is the jealous type. If he was, I think it would be a bit more obvious, you know, him being a supposed devil and all."

Julia frowned and sat up, "Ask Kazuya. Zekkai is far too intelligent to show you how jealous he is of the others in your life. As long as he successfully hides it from you, the easier it will be for him to take care of the obstacles he sees. I'm sure Kazuya or even Jin will agree with me. I can't be the only one in his sights."

"OK. I'll talk to him about it. Now I'm going to beat up some random inanimate object. I'll see you in a few hours."

"You can tell me if you're going to see one of them. I want to know."

The Korean laughed and shook his head, "Yes. We conjured a storm to produce a field of static that would cause me to want to get some of the excess energy out by training at 4:30 in the morning. Really, Julia. If I ever do actually plan a secret get-together, I'd like to think I'd come up with a more reasonable time. Now do you mind?"

She sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Hwoarang jumped at the extra voice in the room and turned to see a silhouette of a man perched in the window. At first, the eyes couldn't be seen, leading the couple to believe it was Kazuya, but as the eyes opened they learned they were wrong. The demon stepped off the sill and stood in the centre of the room, watching as the annoyed redhead turned on the lamp beside the bed.

The two men looked at each other, both angry, only one slightly better at concealing it. The woman in the bed held the blanket up to her chin as she glanced around for a piece of clothing within reaching distance. A little help from her boyfriend would have been nice but he was off in his own world full of pride and anger. An oversized robe would have to do. She was sure she saw one under the bed somewhere.

"This is going too far, man," Hwoarang said, "It seems like everywhere I turn, you pop up out of nowhere. It's like your stalking me! The only time I can trust that I'll have some privacy is if I leave Lee and Kazuya alone together. I think maybe you need a life beyond me and Kazuya. Get the fuck out of my home, and don't you go taking this shit out on Jin. This is between you and me. Do you understand?"

Zekkai smiled. "I fear you are growing far too comfortable around me. You're acting as though your words have some power over my actions. By now you should have realized that not only do you like it when I hurt you, but you like rescuing your friends from my grasp. It turns you on every time you watch an evil deed being committed. You're asking me to leave, but I know that inside you're praying that I react angrily."

Silence fell over the room while Hwoarang struggled to come up with something to say. He heard the door slam behind him as Julia took off angrily. It wasn't surprising that she took his lack of response as confirmation of the demon's words. He didn't bother looking back to the door to see if she was really gone. Julia didn't fool around when it came to punishing others with her passive-aggressive means. Instead, he watched the demon, considering chasing after his girlfriend, and eventually deciding it wouldn't be safe to turn his back to Zekkai.

"Your wounds are healing nicely, my beautiful human."

"Quit calling me that," Hwoarang growled, "I'm not yours and I sure as hell hope I'm not beautiful. And no duh my wounds are healing. It's been a fucking week. I may not heal as fast as you, but they can't stay raw forever. Don't you ever again assume that I want you to be angry. It's Kazuya and Julia and Jin that I enjoy setting off. I haven't forgotten what happened last time I made you angry, and I seriously do not want to relive that moment, so get the fuck out or do I have to call out to that Mishima spy patrolling the neighbourhood? I ain't afraid to be a rat when my ass is on the line."

Zekkai furrowed its brow thoughtfully as it stepped closer to the young Korean and ran its hand down the bare chest before it. A smirk crossed its face when Hwoarang winced. "If I cannot call you my beautiful human, what shall I call you? You have yet to tell me your name, and I do not much care for that assumed name of yours."

"Are you jealous?"

"… Perhaps I am. Would you be so surprised that I would be troubled by your many affairs? As if your being with her was not bad enough, but she is starting to succeed at convincing you that your life of masochism and men is disgusting. I haven't seen you in Four days and five nights. I fear I have lost you, and for that I blame her."

"It's not so much the men as it is the Masochism and Demons. It's not normal…" Hwoarang paused and lowered his head. "I like that its disgusting. I was raised with dirt and filth. It's not that my behaviour bothers me. Now I'm going to be real with you for a second, so keep your mouth shut." He looked up at Zekkai with a helpless frown. "There's a reason I'm letting her change a few of my habits, and it's not what you think. After all the things I've done to her, all the lies I told, she still purposely got caught by Heihachi so she could talk to me. I figured that deserved a little more of my time. It was the things that she witnessed in that prison. Even after bearing witness to… that… she's still loyal to me. I have nothing else to give her but obedience in a couple areas."

The demon's face lost all expression and it turned to go. "I see. Goodbye, human."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and grabbed the demon's arm, "Where do you think your going, prick? I told you to keep your mouth shut, and I'm not finished. You see, this is why I rarely get real with people. They always get upset about something before I can make myself clear. Now, as I was saying, I'm letting her change a couple things about me that aren't all that important. You are not one of those things. The reason I haven't seen you in so long is because I've been working on building up her trust so she'll think I've given up my current lifestyle for her. I would have told you sooner, but I couldn't get away from her. It was easier when my two worlds were separate, and she was a lot easier to deal with. Now as for that whole Masochism shit, I've still gotta make money, so I'll have to settle for the pit fights. Those wounds are easier to explain."

"Why must you act like you are in debt to her? She risked her life because she's in love with the man she still believes you could be. You're walking on eggshells for a woman you don't even love, just because she flattered you by not giving up on making you a man you're not."

"You don't know what she saw."

Zekkai shook his head. "No, I don't know what she saw, but I know what I see. Before me are the ruins of a man that I once thought of as perfection in its purest form. A pathetic wreck of self-pity, desperation, and denial. A fool who was so flattered by a woman's determination that he would ignore everything that he is in order to make her happy." It glared at the door, as if visualizing Julia. "She made her own decision to go in after you. Whether it was you she wanted to leave that place with, or a man that she wishes you were, is her decision and she does not need you to throw her a biscuit."

After a moment of frustrated consideration, Hwoarang sighed and turned away. No angry retorts came to mind. So instead of pressing the issue with empty threats, he sat back down on the edge of the bed and touched the large scab on his chest. It would surely scar, but not nearly as badly as the original inspiration.

"You may not be an ideal candidate to meet a Chang's expectations," The demon continued, with a slightly calmer tone, "but I assure you, Hwoarang, you have excelled at mine. Though I stated earlier that you have become far too comfortable around me, I did not mean it the way I made it sound. I tend to fall in love with you a little more every time you lip off."

"Shut the fuck up," The Korean said, "I never know what to think about you. You always do this! Insult me with some freaky academic shit, and top it off with some even freakier compliment. There's that one little element in all this that has bothered me from the very start. I don't give a flying rat's ass about normality and morals and shit. Fuck, man, my moral standing is lying down! But… I've never believed in immortality. I don't believe in angels or fairies or leprechauns, and here I am, having an affair with a demon. It's unreal. That's what bothers me. How can I be comfortable with something that I can't even bring my self to accept? Hell, this is the equivalent of fucking the boogie man!"

Zekkai smiled a little as it sat down next to the redhead. It also was having a problem believing that it would be won over by a simple mortal. That it would allow this mortal to interfere with most of its plans. How could anything be so complicated and so simple at the same time? But that was exactly what the boy was. There were so many things that could ultimately lead to their downfall if the relationship failed to cease.

The demon remained silent, aware that the young man next to it was not yet finished talking.

Hwoarang hesitated, looking down at his hands. "I just… I need to know more about you. More things that are believable. Like, where did you come from? Were you actually produced by a demon couple that were married or dating, or having a one-night-stand or whatever demons do? Did you have a little devil sister, or an older devil brother? Or… Did some white dude with a long beard snap his fingers and then you just were?"

"I wish I could answer those questions, but I do not know. Perhaps I was born like a mortal would be. It's possible that I once had parents. I fear who ever did bring me into being had left me to fend for myself before I can even remember. It may be merely a side affect to residing in this human body, but judging by my mortal-like thought patterns, and my tend to fail at controlling some of my more intense emotions… I do believe I may have been human once upon a time."

The confession did prove to be a comfort to Hwoarang, yet not quite enough to ease his thoughts. He was satisfied enough to push the matter aside for the time being and concentrate on more important topics.

"So were you really only just angry because you hadn't seen me in four days?"

"Yes." A smirk tainted the creature's lips as it gently rubbed the Korean's back and shoulders. "Now, allow me to express my anger. Lay down, and give me those jeans. They are unnecessary for the time being."

Hwoarang began to retort, "But I was going to go to the…" he trailed off as Zekkai walked across the room to lock the bedroom door. The statement that was nearly completed had to be reconsidered, and rephrased. Thinking about words was slightly unreasonable, therefore it took some time before the Korean had his newly revised sentence. "I guess it couldn't hurt to start my warm up here."

The demon crossed its arms, faking impatience. Finally the jeans were removed, and tossed to the floor. Zekkai grabbed them and took a lighter off the bedside table. It smirked as it lit the pants on fire, and watched the Korean eyes go from what looked like a playful crimson in the dim light to an amazed dark roan red. He coughed in disbelief as his jeans began crumbling to the floor in a pile of ashes, and crispy strands.

"I told you I wanted to burn your clothes," The demon explained slyly.

Hwoarang slipped on his boxers and shook his head. "In that case, these things ain't going anywhere near you." He smiled and obeyed the first command by lying back, spreading himself across the whole bed. "Unless, of course, you come and get them yourself, my beautiful devil."

"I get the feeling you are mocking me."

"It's possible," Hwoarang replied with a shrug, "but there are too many business items on the agenda to be bothered thinking about what the hell I'm doing. I'm a little more interested in what you're doing, if you know what I mean."

Answering the young Korean was done easily as the demon pulled a small knife out of its pocket. It climbed on the bed, straddling the leaner man, eyeing the field of bare flesh with a predator's leer. The blade looked fairly knew, or polished recently.

/You stupid fiend. He is not immortal. These constant injuries could weigh heavily on his life. He could get diseases and infections that could kill him in a matter of weeks, or even days! Put the knife down.

Zekkai rolled its eyes and took its lover's hand in its own. The tip of the blade was gingerly pressed into the Korean's finger, and the blood was sucked away. The knife couldn't possibly be cleaner, so it didn't believe there was anything to worry about. Strangely, the taste of the boy's blood wasn't nearly as sweet as usual. The thick salty taste was contaminated by Kazuya's words, and Zekkai's growing worry. It wasn't often that a mortal problem would successfully get to the demon.

Eventually the worry was caught on to. Hwoarang took his hand away, his brow furrowed with concern. "What's going on, Zekkai? Is Kazuya shooting off his mouth, or whatever he does in that head? What's he saying?" He paused, and when the demon didn't respond, he sat up. "Zekkai. What is it?"

"This is unhealthy," The demon stated, absently, "I'm hurting you."

"What are you talking about? I like being hurt, remember?"

/You foolish devil. Your infatuation has blinded you. Since when has a mortal's well-being been any of your concern? Step aside and allow me to handle this. Before you refuse, let me remind you that unlike you, I am human and have the ability to understand him.

The red eyes faded slowly and hesitantly. In no time at all, Kazuya was in the demon's place, still straddling the young man. The aged Japanese eyes detected anger in the Korean features, but was not bothered by it. So much could be expected for having chased an important figure away into the depths of his subconscious. For the first time, he was able to coax the demon away from the boy and for that he was proud. Though, that angry, cheated look he received was almost enough for him to lose the pride.

Hwoarang shoved Kazuya off of him, and got to his feet. "What the fuck was the big idea, smart ass? There was an actual point to this wasn't there?" He demanded, "If there wasn't I'm going to be royally pissed."

"He's a demon, Hwoa-kun. He is not of flesh and blood. You're going to have to realize that you cannot be with something that isn't human."

"In that case, I can't be with you either, seeing as how he's a part of you. That makes you part demon, or devil or whatever the fuck he is." Hwoarang snapped, growing angrier by the second. "Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what I can and can't be with? Why does everybody think they're the boss of me? Let me clear something up, Mishima: I answer to no one. Do you understand me?"

Kazuya got up, meeting the boy's glare with an authoritative, unimpressed gaze. "I still am human, despite my devil half."

The Korean managed to avoid faltering. It was hard to handle a Mishima trying to stare him down, but he was able to stand his ground. Logic was running circles in his mind as he tried to sort it out. "So if being possessed by a devil makes you part devil, then wouldn't that mean that Zekkai's possessing you would make him part human?"

"It doesn't work that way," Kazuya sighed, annoyed. "You occupy an apartment, but that doesn't make you part building, does it?"

"No, but it doesn't make the apartment part person, either," Hwoarang responded, stubbornly. "You and Zekkai both are living creatures. If you exist, and have a mind of your own, that means you are living, despite what you think of him. He is part of you, and you are part of him whether you like it or not, so if you refuse me half of you, then you are refusing me altogether. So if that's what you want, you know where the door is."

As if on cue, the bedroom door swung open and Lee Chaolan walked in, donning a dismayed frown. He looked straight at Hwoarang as he said in a quiet, barely audible voice. "Eryx Danas is dead."

* * *

"He doesn't love me!"

Jin flicked his friend a sideways glance, causing him to nearly stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. Although he was well aware of the truth in that statement, having heard it straight from Hwoarang's mouth not long ago, he felt complied to ask, "What on earth makes you think that?"

"After that devil showed up, I left the room, hoping they'd resolve whatever the problem was better if I was not present. So I waited in the next room where I could hear what was going on. I wanted to be able to jump in if things got too dangerous, you know? And then Zekkai said that Hwoarang was walking on eggshells for a girl he doesn't even love. What got to me was that Hwoarang didn't deny it, he only tried to defend it. He came up with an excuse. He's only still with me because I know what Heihachi did to him!" She covered her face with her hands as she began to sob. "What am I going to do?"

It was an awkward situation. Despite the knowledge that he possessed, he couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl. Naturally, this kind of thing would hurt. Knowing the feeling of being betrayed as well as he did, it was a moral, and instinctive obligation to be there for her. Jin obeyed his own thoughts by leading Julia to a nearby park bench, and sitting her down.

They had run into each other on the bus at around 5:30 am. Jin was on his way to work while Julia was just trying to get as far from her boyfriend as possible, subconsciously going toward the part of town that she suspected Jin's hotel was in. Luckily, he had many sick days saved up, so his boss wouldn't be too upset. Upon seeing the expression on the woman's face, there wasn't much of a choice.

"You can't let him keep doing this to you," Jin said quietly, "You're a strong, talented, beautiful woman, and he's a very angry, and confused man, even if he doesn't always show it." He paused as Julia glanced at him. "It is not your fault that he feels this way. You didn't do anything wrong. You're very special to him, and he cares deeply about you, it's just that… He's not right for you, and I think you know that. Honestly, Julia, you really need to stop focusing on what he needs. It's hard for anyone to tell what he needs right now, and I'm completely confident that he is more than capable of taking care of himself. It's time you concentrate on what it is that you need."

Julia smiled weakly and nodded, "You're right. Thank you… I guess I should put more of myself into my cause and goals, but I need more than that. I feel like the forest is who I am, and I need to revive it. It's just not enough. I can't do this alone." She lowered her eyes. "Accomplishments just aren't as rewarding when you don't have anyone close to share them with… Hwoarang was never interested in what was important to me."

The clouds rolling overhead began to rumble quietly. A storm was coming, but it was still quite far away yet. It would take about an hour before it came close enough to affect them. The rain was not a problem, for it was only just sprinkling and they were shielded by an old large tree. The setting was almost the complete opposite, but it reminded the American of the scene she had mused over in Nebraska. An adorable couple sat on a bench, gazing out over a frozen river.

"Jin," Julia inquired, "Are you gay?"

Gentle Japanese eyes studied her face as his head tilted slightly in thought. His response was wordless, yet obvious and somewhat powerful. He touched the woman's face and kissed her lightly and slowly.

TBC.......

A/N: MWAHAHAHA! How's that for a twist? Well, I guess you could have seen that coming but let me have my glory!


	16. Hatred Within

A/N: Ok, I haven't slept all night and I just proofread this chap this morning, so I can't guarentee that anything will make sense... then again, I can never Guarentee that! In fact, I can probably say there's a less chance of sense making when I've had sleep. HEHEHEHE ok. Shuddup for me!

Crossfire

Chapter Sixteen

Hatred Within

"What are you doing here?"

Hwoarang leaned against the doorframe as he casually assessed his rival. A dangerous look of hostility clouded his Korean face, curling his lip in a frightening smirk. His dark eyes flicked over the bare Japanese chest, and down to the petite jeans decorating the floor. It was obvious that he knew. From the looks of the rain soaked man, he had known before he had even arrived.

Normally, the way the red hair was darkened and wild from being tossed around in the wet wind would be attractive, but at the moment it only made him look more psychotic. The black wife-beater was torn and clinging, while the faded blue jeans appeared to be a few sizes tighter then usual.

Jin put down the book he was reading, and got up, positive that he would have to defend himself. The anger of the Korean was a typical thing, but at the moment, it was bordering insanity. "It's, uh, not what you think."

"Seems to me, it's exactly what I think." Hwoarang sauntered closer, his eyes gleaming. "Now I wanna hear all about what happened. Give me all the raw details. How did you fuck her, man?" He wrapped his hands around his rival's neck and slammed the man against a nearby wall. For a few seconds the Korean just studied his rival's face. Jin half expected to be the miserable owner of a black eye any minute, but his eyes never met a fist. As if he had been pushed, Hwoarang's lips came down hard on Jin's. Though, the hands gripping the Japanese neck did not loosen. If anything, they tightened, sending the message that the scene was no laughing matter

As soon as the Korean's lips moved down away from Jin's, and down the neckline, Jin spoke up, "Hwoarang." He tried to get out of the redhead's grip. "Hwoarang, cut it out."

Instead of obeying, Hwoarang pushed the Japanese man down to the floor, and continued caressing his rival. "Did you make it romantic for her?" He breathed between nips, "She likes romance. You know, the whole satin-sheeted, dim-lighted, sweet-worded scenario?" He started undoing Jin's pants. "I just know you'd fulfil all her fantasies."

Jin did his pants back up, trying to squirm away. "Stop it." His breathing grew heavier as the Korean reached a sensitive spot on his neck. "Hwoarang… Hwoarang stop it." When the angry, quick fingers undid Jin's pants again, Jin finally roughly shoved the leaner man off of him. "Would you just back off??"

"What's a matter, Kazama? Too worn out from earlier?"

A knock came at the door. Jin, who was more then happy to get an interruption, stumbled to his feet and pulled the door open. Without honoring Jin with so much as a word, Kazuya walked in and straight toward Hwoarang as if his son did not even occupy the same planet. There was a thick tension between the two as the Korean pushed past his older lover and started out the door, only to be stopped by Kazuya grabbing him by the wrist.

"Hwoa-kun, please." Kazuya said in a whisper. "Don't go."

Hwoarang lowered his head and asked, "I'm flattered you would pass up a chance to do your non-brother just to follow me around, but we talked about everything that needed to be said earlier. Let go of me."

"I want to apologize," The older man said, releasing his grip, "I have no place trying to interfere with you and Zekkai. As much as it bothers me that anyone would have that thing on a pedestal... I do not trust it, but that's not any of my concern."

Jin watched the scene with great interest, trying to figure out what had happened by what they said. He wasn't about to come right out and ask, because neither of the parties seemed to be in the mood for questions. It was all a matter of deciphering the code of conversation. Most of it was obvious, but he found it hard to believe that Hwoarang would snap just because Kazuya disapproved of the demon's involvement. There had to be more to it.

The Korean growled and punched Kazuya in the jaw. "You're fucking right it ain't your business! Just because your so much older then me, doesn't mean you need to treat me like a dumbass adolescent! If you really want to father someone, your son is right here! I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"I'm sorry," Kazuya said, rubbing his jaw, "but there's one thing I need to know before I leave."

"Huh?"

Kazuya stepped closer, "I need to know what you want."

As if he had been struck down, Hwoarang fell to his knees. His face was hidden by a screen of dripping dark red locks, and his catlike body was incredibly tense. His voice came out quiet and clipped as he said, "I want all this bullshit to just stop. I can't take it anymore." He looked up at Kazuya and smiled bitterly. "Eryx Danas wouldn't have died if it wasn't for me. He wouldn't have been in trouble. His blood is on my hands."

"Hwoarang," Jin said, finally, "I knew the Danas brothers, personally. Eryx had been one of my body guards, and even though he tried to kill me, I have no doubt that his suicide was Heihachi's fault alone."

Hwoarang hesitantly allowed his rival to help him up. "If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have been able to defend myself in there. I might still be in there." He paused and lowered his head, "I need to talk to Zekkai." When no response came, he turned around and shoved the older Mishima. "I need Zekkai!"

"No," Kazuya said, standing firm.

"No? What do you mean, no?" Hwoarang shoved Kazuya again. His lip was curled in a scowl as he demanded, "Give him to me. When I punch him, I want to know he feels it."

"Hwoa-kun," Kazuya said quietly, "This isn't about Zekkai right now. This is about you. I would like to speak calmly about this, if you would just step back."

The Korean's face displayed his intense rage as he took a swing at his older lover. Before his blow could land, he doubled over, a fist in his stomache, and a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from falling. It wasn't much of a shock that Kazuya would fight back, in fact, Hwoarang was amazed it took so long for that to happen. He rested his forehead on Kazuya's arm, as he tried to breathe through the pain.

Hwoarang finally pushed himself away and laughed lightly. "Every now and then I completely snap, but you know, it's hard to keep it together. How the fuck could I possibly maintain my sanity when I have lost all control over this situation? I can't make you stay. I can't make Zekkai continue not hating me. I can't stop Jin and Julia from fucking! In order to stay strong in my shoes would require something that I don't have. I don't even know what it is that I don't have."

/I think you've upset him, my pet./

Kazuya glanced at the demon's reflection in the window, and shook his head. "You always get lost in this vicious cycle of self-pity, and undeserved redemption." He looked back to the Korean with a disappointed sneer. "How many times have we been through this? Do you intend to keep going in this direction until you hit a dead-end? The Chang never fooled anyone. We all knew she wanted my son, and you even knew that, so why all this fuss? Now, allow me to be real with you for a moment, Hwoa-kun. I've told you before that Zekkai didn't have any legitimate feelings for you, and I will say it again. I'm aware that he is positive that the feelings exist, but that's one of the side effects to sharing a body. He can't help but have some of my feelings for certain people, as I have acquired some of his."

/Now, you know that isn't completely true. You are beginning to upset me, my pet. It's not a choice I would recommend./

Lightning flashed with a loud crack, and the power went out. Even though Hwoarang was not the one possessed by a demon, the two Japanese men were almost positive that the young Korean was capable of things that they could not even imagine. It was not very often that an ordinary man could frighten a Mishima. Then again, that fiery redhead was no ordinary man.

"I ain't buying that. If that were the case, it seems like you're the one borrowing feelings about me from him! So that leads to another question, like: How the fuck do you explain his hatred toward Lee, when all the while, you've decided to take a liking to your frequent bonding experiences?" Hwoarang shoved the Mishima once more, and asked, "Wanna know what I think?" He grinned devilishly. "I think you're just using this feeling exchange shit as an excuse to explain why you're such a cold-blooded bastard."

Jin frowned and decided to speak up again, "Hwoarang, the devil gene is something very complicated. A lot of symptoms that it results in cannot be explained, while things that should happen, don't. It's possible the Devil gene made my father a bastard in general without sharing it's hatred for my uncle."

"That's bullshit!" Hwoarang laughed, "You're father's a bastard, and his father's a bastard, and I bet it was the same way with all your forefathers! Hey, I know I'm a jackass, a prick, and a stupid son-of-a-bitch, but at least I have the balls not to blame it all on someone else! Kazama, You're a bitch because you're a bitch! The devil gene didn't make you a bitch, you're just a bitch! Same with Kazuya! Obviously Zekkai didn't steal his free will, so he still has control over what he does and how he acts." He turned toward Kazuya, and grinned through the darkness, "I'm dead serious, Mishima-sama. I've had enough of you blaming all this shit on Zekkai. You have two choices, man. Either own up to what and who you are, or stay the fuck away from me."

Kazuya started out the door, "You say that as if there's anything to consider."

Hwoarang glared after the barely visible outline of his lover's back. "Jigoku ni ike… Okama."

"What did you say?" Kazuya stopped, mid-stride, and glanced back, his eyes beginning to flare dangerously. He already knew what was said, but needed to hear it again out of the Korean's mouth.

"I said, Go to hell, fag! Need me to spell it out for you?"

Kazuya spun around, and charged his younger lover with a powerful uppercut. He growled as he watched the younger man fall to the ground before Jin could catch him. The older Mishima waited for the redhead to stagger to his feet before unleashing a flurry of punches, and finishing the combo by turning on his heel and kicking into a spin, landing his foot on Hwoarang's side, launching the younger man into a table. The Korean hit the table's corner at such an angle that the table didn't move even an inch. Instead, the corner was rammed into his upper abdomen, and a drop of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself off, and slunk into a heap on the floor.

A startled Jin rushed to his side, and laid him so his back was straight against the solid floor. When he wasn't paying attention, the door slammed, and Kazuya was gone.

* * *

The sun rose the next morning, after having rained for nearly 24 hours. The air was fresh, and moist. Birds were happy and singing. Squirrels were chattering and playing. It was a beautiful day, but something evil boiled beneath the surface of all that sunshine and happiness. Hatred itself was stalking angrily across a quiet street, hidden only by the hood of its jacket. A dog that had been wagging its tail and slobbering over complete strangers began barking and growling madly as the epitome of hatred walked past. All the trees nearby were soon void of any life, birds or squirrels, or even insects. While all the people in the area were either completely oblivious, or baffled at the sudden disappearance of life.

The freaked out dog started running after the hooded figure, until the man normally known as Jin, turned and growled quietly at the creature, "Urasai!" And it ran in the other direction, yelping.

His eyes started to flicker red, and then back to their original colour as he walked into the hotel. The staff watched him until he walked into the elevator, as if he was carrying a gun or some weapon. The flickering red eyes watched the numbers light up as he came closer to his destination. He already knew that the man he sought was aware that he was nearing. The Demon's aura grew stronger and more magnetic by the second.

As the elevator doors slid open, the sight of his father met him. The man stood against the wall, waiting, and smirking. "I've been waiting for this day to come, longer then you can even imagine."

TBC.....


	17. That's What I Get

A/N: I think I will be wrapping this fic up in the next chapter. It's about time. I want to start a fresh new fic… One that will be somewhat accurate now that T5 info is out, since this one seems to have strayed. Perhaps I'll kill off a character too, just for the hell of it! lol

Crossfire

Chapter 17

That's What I Get

"Father…"

"No," Kazuya corrected, "You are no son of mine." He stepped forward and backed his son into the corner of the elevator while his eyes slowly turned Blood red. "That Kazama blood makes you strong, and the Mishima blood makes you cold and detached, but you yourself, are weak."

Jin stifled a panicked gasp as he realized he couldn't go back any further. There was no way out of that corner. The only way he could possibly escape would be to defeat the demonic man. Though, it had been his original intention in the first place, it was harder when he was already cornered. "Zekkai," He responded, not able to hide the anger in his voice, "I had actually begun to believe that you cared about Hwoarang. If you did, then how could you let Kazuya do that to him?"

Zekkai stepped closer; it's eyes soft and cold. The elevator doors closed behind it. When it reached back and pulled the red emergency stop, Jin couldn't help but grow even more afraid. Being trapped in that situation was enough to make him slightly claustrophobic. The Demon grabbed his wrists and pushed them against the wall over his head. Struggling only caused the grip on his wrists to tighten to a bruising extent.

The panic nearly caused Jin to forget that his legs were free. After a moment, he kneed Devil in the stomach, and scrambled to the middle of the Tiny Elevator, and into fighting stance. Devil didn't even bother going into a stance of his own. Instead it just smirked and stepped toward the younger man once again. When Jin threw a punch, Devil caught it. When Jin kicked, Devil pushed his leg away. Soon, Jin found himself backed into a corner once again. This time Devil Held his Wrists, and pinned the rest of Jin's body against the wall with its own.

Angry Demonic lips grazed Jin's neck, causing him to struggle harder. The younger man soon found his Jacket torn from his body and hitting the Blue and black tiled floor. The hungry demon found its way to Jin's mouth, only to have Jin's head turn in the only way he could think to reject the demon. Though, the rejection only deepened the cocky smirk.

"Get the hell off me," Jin ordered.

Zekkai grinded its hips further into Jin's. When it didn't get a response, it pulled the boy away from the wall and shoved him violently to the tiled floor. As the young Japanese attempted to get back to a standing position, a boot nailed him in the stomach, harder then he was used to. It took a moment for him to be able to breathe again, and when he did, he started coughing. The demon kicked him again, only this time in the jaw before kneeling down beside him. It successfully stole a kiss before mounting the younger man.

Jin struggled uselessly as his pants were removed. He couldn't think straight, and he could feel loose teeth within his bloody mouth. He coughed and spit a piece of a tooth out of his mouth before attempting to speak. "You can't do this. We're of the same blood." He paused to spit again, "You don't want to do this. You don't really want to prove everyone right do you? Prove that you're a disgusting crude creature. That you're a devil and that's all you ever could be."

"My dear boy," Zekkai smiled mockingly between nips to the younger man's shoulder. It Sat up straight and started unzipping its own pants. "I am a disgusting crude creature. I am a devil and that is all that I would ever wish to be. I'm quite satisfied with what I am, and so is our friend the blood talon, so it seems."

* * *

Steam rose off the water as it showered down on the lean Asian body. It was almost scolding, but not quite. The hotter it was, the better it was to ease the tension in his shoulders. Lee Chaolan rinsed the rest of the soap out of his hair with a tired sigh. As he reached for the bottle of conditioner, a knock came at the door. It was obvious who it was, since there was only one other person in that apartment suite with him. Without bothering to turn off the water, or even get out and cover himself up, Lee called out to the guest, "It's unlocked."

The door opened and a weak looking Korean stepped into the bathroom. He leaned against the sink beside the shower and frowned down at the floor. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly 36 hours," The older man replied, coating his hair with cream rinse as he let the water beat down on his chest. He tugged the curtains open slightly to peak out at the redhead. It was a sad sight. "Jin said he'd be back tonight with more pain killers. Think you can last? … How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

Lee put his back to the curtain as he pulled it open more, so that the Korean couldn't see him. He said with less of an arrogant tone then usual, "Get in here."

Hwoarang glanced up and eyed the opening with curiosity. He considered it for a moment and finally straightened up and walked inside. He watched the other man pull the curtains back closed. Someone had removed his shirt while he was unconscious, though he couldn't remember whether he was wearing a shirt before hand, but the water was making the sweats someone put him in heavy. They were nearly falling off his hips, so he grabbed at them, holding them up, while trying to keep his bare flesh away from the direct spray, and receiving an amused smirk from the other man. It was too hot.

Finally noticing that the older man didn't quite look like he usually did, Hwoarang's mouth dropped open. How could he have ever guessed that Lee could be anything other than Lee? But with the steam rising off the man, water pouring down on the finely toned muscles, his hair in dripping silver locks, and that heart breaking smirk, he was much more then Lee. He was attractive. Very attractive. Almost irresistible.

Lee pulled Hwoarang under the water, and held him there from behind. "You'll get used to the heat. Just relax. It'll make you feel better," He assured softly.

"Chaolan?"

"Hmm?"

The Korean lowered his head, letting the water trickle down to his back. Quietly he said, "I think you'd better let me go before I start something we'll both regret." He turned around to face the other man and pleaded, "Don't let it happen, Chaolan. Please don't let me do it."

Finally realizing what the young man was on about, Lee pushed the Korean against the wall, under the showerhead. During his attempt to weigh the situation before making a move, somehow the young lips found their way to his. He almost felt bad for letting it happen, the boy being in a very vulnerable condition mentally and physically, but the boy wasn't the only one had been trying to fight the urge.

Hwoarang scaled down the lean Asian body before him, placing heated kisses along the way until he finally came to the erect 'limb'. It was almost nice to be on his knees again for standing required too much energy and focus. Not in the mood to tease, he got right to the point. Lee moaned quietly as a mouth closed around his length.

* * *

"Mattsu!"

The workers stepped into the small elevator to find a young unconscious Japanese man naked, and lying in a pool of what they suspected was his own blood. At first they were sure the man was dead, but then his chest rose suddenly, as if struggling to breathe. Two of the older, more experienced workers rushed in, and to his side, while ordering the younger ones, "Kyukyusha! Hayaku!"

The dark Japanese eyes fluttered open. Jin winced as he tried to turn his head to look at the men at his side. Taking a moment to gather his strength he muttered something in a language they did not recognise. He frowned, realizing that he didn't recognise the language himself, and figured he must have hit his head pretty hard. He, once again, attempted to speak, "Kudasai…"

"Dou Shita no?"

"Kudasai… help…"

The man felt Jin's forehead before shouting back at the men at the phone, "Hayaku! Hayaku! Tameguchi kitten ja ney o!"

Jin looked himself over while the workers screamed insults at each other. He was surprised to find himself still alive. Did Zekkai take the demon out of him without killing him? No. He could still feel it bubbling under the surface of his soul. It was growing stronger. It wanted to come out. He knew he had to get out of there before anyone got hurt. But how could he get out when he could barely even move, not to mention his obvious lack of clothing. His torn clothes were nowhere in sight.

He growled at the sudden realization of what had happened that morning, assuming it was the same day. How could that have happened? Was Kazuya even disgusted? Zekkai and his human host had to be stopped. There were no two ways about it.

Slowly, Jin got to his feet. His eyes were fading to a red, and markings started appearing across his body and face. Large black feathery wings shot out of his back as he crouched with his head lowered, and fist planted firmly in the ground. The workers fell silent, staring in awe and terror. The demon Jin shoved one out of its way and ran, crashing through a window and pushed himself into flight.

* * *

"Yarichin…"

Hwoarang leaped out of the bed at the unexpected voice, covering himself with a pillow. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and looked upon the demon once more. Never before had he seen hatred so intense from Zekkai's eyes. Never, since that day in the nook of the whore-infested streets, had that anger ever been directed at him. He looked down at Lee, who also seemed quite startled and amazed at the look the Korean was receiving from devil.

"Koro shite yaru…" Zekkai snarled, lunging at the young redhead. "I'm going to kill you!"

The Korean dodged, sending the demon flying on top of Lee. It turned its head to glare at Hwoarang before launching itself off the bed and pouncing on the boy much like a lion would pounce on a mouse. It punched its young lover in the gut where he had been injured earlier by the table, drawing a loud pained cry out of him. Out of uncontrollable rage, it punched him again in the same spot.

Hwoarang started choking, and spitting up blood. His eyes were squeezed closed, and his muscles were tense as he tried to ignore the pain. Once he could breathe without inhaling blood, he spoke one word, "Zekkai…" The only word that came to mind. It couldn't be Zekkai doing that to him. It had to be Kazuya. But the red eyes were there. He had never felt so alone and abandoned since the day of Doo San's death. If he didn't have Zekkai, who did he have?

The devil grunted as it was knocked to the side. Lee, who had somehow found the time to put on a pair of leather pants, stood over the fallen demon, and proceeded to kicking it numerous times in the chest, and stomping on its side. "It takes a very large coward to attack someone when they're already badly injured." He grabbed Zekkai by the hair and pulled it to its feet before adding, "Shame on you."

As Lee attempted to present the demon with a punch, it was too late. Zekkai grabbed his arm and with a powerful yank, the tearing of ligaments and tendons could be heard. Lee howled in agony, falling to the floor, and cradling his arm. It was already beginning to swell.

Once again, Zekkai lunged at Hwoarang, this time knocking him back onto the bed where he was trying to push himself up so he could defend himself. The red eyes narrowed in accusation as it growled, "You whore. First it was Julia, then Kazuya, Then Jin, then Lee, then Danas, then Heihachi, and now you're fucking Lee! Who's next? That man who attacked Kazuya in Nebraska? Or his hippie girlfriend? I will not allow you to drag me along any longer! I will not be one of your many meaningless fuck buddies! I have put up with far too much from you!"

"Zekkai…"

"SILENCE!" Zekkai backhanded the Korean. "You will not soften me with your pitiful pleas." It shuddered and got off the boy. "I'm far to disgusted by even the sight of you, to continue your punishment. Maybe the Chang was right. You are sick you filthy whore."

Hwoarang coughed again, rolling over to his side, clutching his stomach. He fought back tears of his own rage. Of course he was aware that the demon would be angry, but he never imagined that such a scene would take place. Zekkai knew perfectly well that the Korean had other relations, and it never bothered it much before, aside from some jealousy that it seemed to keep hidden very well. Why would it lash out so suddenly?

The two injured men watched as the demon stalked out the door, before Lee got up and rushed to the redhead. "I need to get us an ambulance."

"I don't need no fucking ambulance," Hwoarang coughed. "I ain't no pansy ass wimp. I can walk this off."

Lee rolled his eyes and sighed. "Funny, for some strange reason, I thought you had matured."

"That's because in the peak of your mid-aged crisis, a ten-year-old would appear mature if it had a pretty face," Hwoarang remarked, wincing when he moved to sit up. "That sick fuck. I'll bet he's gone to jerk off outside some hot chick's window. That's what I would do if I was half devil."

"What on earth did I find so attractive about you?"

Hwoarang shrugged, coughing again, before frowning at the older man, "Yeah, what the fuck got into you?"

"Me?" Lee scoffed in disbelief, "If I recall correctly, it was you who brought the issue to the table, and it was you who begged me not to let you do it, and it was you who kissed me first! Maybe that demon was on to something when he mentioned you being a whore."

A grin covered the Korean's face as he responded, "Come closer, Chaolan."

Lee grinned in turn, still cradling his arm, and leaned into a deep kiss.

-

TBC…

A/N: Ok, now Hwoarang's slept with everyone. lol


	18. Endings that never end

Crossfire

Chapter 18

-

It was a private room. Since Chaolan Lee had arranged everything, and was footing the bill, the hospital staff was more then willing to pamper the fiery redhead. Unlike most of the other patient's rooms, there were no flowers, or get-well cards. There were no magazines or newspapers. The only thing in that room that wasn't there before he got there was the glass of water on the nightstand beside him.

Though, the lack of gifts and words of cheer in his room were not because he did not receive anything. He had received quite a few things from both Julia and Kazuya, but without so much as glancing at them, he had ordered the delivery personnel to remove them immediately. He knew that Kazuya would send apologies, but he didn't want an apology from Kazuya. It was Zekkai who he wished to hear from. He didn't expect Jin to even know he was in the hospital, and his brand new relationship with Lee wasn't like that. Instead of sending messages or gifts, Lee visited before and after the surgery, and intended to the next morning.

The doctors had said that it wasn't as bad as it looked. After a small, one-hour surgery, he slept for a while and was told that he was healthy enough to go. Unfortunately, the doctors were obviously looking to drag a prettier penny out of Lee, so they decided to keep the Korean in over night in order to "Observe his condition".

Along with the sound of women laughing in the hallway, Julia entered the room, breaking his silent sanctuary. Dark Korean eyes slowly gazed up at the unwanted guest with far less anger then he intended. He wasn't angry that she had sex with Jin, though that was unnerving. It was the fact that he had been right all along that angered him. Defiantly, he looked away, and stared broodingly into the glass of water at his side.

"Are you alright?" Julia asked quietly.

Hwoarang shrugged and picked up the glass to take a big, unnecessarily loud gulp. As he put it back down he decided to voice a response: "No, to tell you the truth Julia, I'm not all right. I'm far from all right. I got attacked by a demon, and then put under the knife. The only fucker I can trust to be honest is Chaolan. And don't you dare fucking say that I'm being a hypocrite because I'm not honest. You were lying to me way before I started lying to you."

Julia frowned, "What did I ever lie about?"

"Jin."

Her face changed from defensive to that of someone who knew a past crime had been found out. Her eyes began to water as she sat down on the chair beside the nightstand. "I didn't do that because I love him, Hwoarang. I heard Devil say that you didn't love me, and you didn't deny it, so I went off in a self-pity tangent, and Jin was the only one to offer me some comfort. I was vulnerable."

"So you're saying Jin Kazama took advantage of you?" Hwoarang laughed with disbelief as he shook his head, "We are talking about the same Jin Kazama here, aren't we? Maybe he did start it, but I doubt he was taking advantage of anything. I don't care what you've been through; if Jin started something with you, it wouldn't matter how happy or how upset you were, you'd just go with it."

"How can you say that? You're the one who's with all these other people, and you freak when one of them finds someone else! You have no right to be angry with me, Hwoarang!"

"Julia." He looked directly at her, "You're right. I'm a horrible jealous monster. You should be with someone who will be faithful to you. Someone who you can successfully turn into Kazama. Obviously I'm not that person. Julia, I want to ask you a favour. Just one last favour and I'll never ask anything of you again."

"What is it?"

His face lost all emotion and became more thoughtful. His voice was rather indifferent as he answered, "I want you to leave me. Go back to America, dig through some shit and dirt, find something old and broken, and sell if for a lot of money, and then reforest your homeland. Do what you want to do, just stay the fuck away from me." He paused as he noticed her studying him, and he decided to continue further, "I know I've said this before on a number of occasions, but those times I said it out of anger. I'm not angry right now. I don't love you, Julia, and you don't love me. You're wasting my time, and I'm wasting yours, so there's no point in this… I don't fucking love you."

"But… Then…"

"No, Julia."

The American girl jumped at the sound of a door opening beside her. She turned to see Jin Kazama himself enter the room, a brown paper bag in hand. Something in his eye told her that he wanted to be alone with Hwoarang, but she didn't want to leave for fear that she'd never see him again. Before she could object, the man on the bed growled under his breath, what she guessed was a venomous Korean insult directed at the Japanese.

After a moment of voicelessly arguing with herself, she finally got up and walked out of the room without a word to either of the men. Once Jin shut the door, she ducked into the empty room beside the one she had just left. With a guess as to where the head of the bed was positioned, Julia put her ear to the wall, hoping to hear what was being said. Luckily hospital walls were made paper-thin. Though the voices were muffled, most words could be understood, making it possible to fill in the inaudible ones.

Within the room in question, Jin walked over with an almost unnoticeable limp and dropped the bag on Hwoarang's lap with a shy explanation, "I thought you might like some real food, but they told me you probably wouldn't have much of an appetite after that surgery. I got you some Korokke, meat and potatoes."

Hwoarang put the bag beside his lonely glass of water, and patted the bed beside him, "Come sit."

After hesitating for a while, Jin took a seat on the edge of the bed, only to be pulled down next to his rival. He frowned, having expected to be attacked and not embraced. "Uh… I take it that thing you said when I walked in was just for show?"

"Fuck no. Nothing I do is for show." Hwoarang smirked, rubbing his rival's back. "Don't mind me, I'm a bit doped up at the moment."

"So I hear Zekkai snapped… Any particular reason?"

"Yeah. He's as much of a bitch as you are. Who would have thought?" Hwoarang grinned, and kissed Jin lightly on the corner of the mouth. "Don't worry about it. So where did you take off to? I'm guessing you're the one who brought me to my apartment and gave Lee the job of babysitting me."

Jin flinched, not wanting to tell the truth. Normally he was all for honesty, but this wasn't a normal situation, and he didn't want to bring Hwoarang into it, so he quickly thought up a lie, "I do still have a job you know."

Though he didn't believe it, Hwoarang was far too lazy to press the issue at that moment. As he ignited a rough, sloppy kiss, the subject was dropped. The kiss only lasted a second. It was just barely enough time for Hwoarang to successfully unbuckle Jin's belt. Before any further steps could be taken, the phone rang. Hwoarang, figuring it was probably Lee, reached over grudgingly and picked it up.

"Yeah?"

_"You sound well, my beautiful Human."_

Hwoarang tried to hide the surprise in his voice, but failed as he said, "Zekkai!" He silently noted the masked fear that was apparent on his rival's face as the demon's name was spoken. Not just the typical look of distaste, but something more along the lines of fresh conflict.

"_Why so shocked? Did you not think I'd care enough to check on you? I'm insulted. So how's my other half doing? Did he explain that limp to you?"_

He glanced over at Jin, "What limp?"

Jin looked away in shame, not knowing what else to do. He really did not want to be there at that moment, but there was no sign of a way out, other then walking straight back out that door like a coward. It was preferable to sit and face his shame no matter what the redhead thought of the facts. The last thing he wanted was to lose Hwoarang's respect, and suddenly he understood why the Korean was always avoiding admitting that Zekkai had raped him. The respect you lose for yourself was unbearably painful, let alone having someone else lose that respect.

"_I was curious as to why you had any attraction to Jun's boy, so I decided to try him out for myself. He's quite an amusing toy, almost more amusing then you, but then again, I couldn't seem to make him beg, and he did struggle much harder then you ever did. Perhaps next time I should try dangling him off of a sky scraper."_

"Yumago," Hwoarang growled, "What the hell do you want, you sick fuck?"

_"To speak with you. Meet me in an hour in the birthplace of Kazuya's immortality. You may wish to bring the boy, for I doubt you know where the cliff is located"_

The Korean dropped the receiver on the nightstand without so much as another word to his demonic lover. His attention was soon focused on his rival, but strangely, there was no need for further instruction. Jin already knew where they were going, and he was already on his feet, arms crossed before his chest in waiting.

* * *

Lee Chaolan sighed, positive that he had never been so inconvenienced in his life. He looked the women over briefly before starting the engine and speeding off in the direction of the forest in question. As long as they didn't encounter any cops, they'd make it on time.

If Jin Kazama and Hwoarang weren't in danger he wouldn't bother. He tended not to get involved in Kazuya's affairs because of a childhood fear he had never been able to shake. After spending years of witnessing servants new to the Mishima estate cross Kazuya on a bad day, it was normal to be annoyed with the possibility of being one of those unfortunate few. At the moment he was wishing that the girl hadn't come to him with this problem she had acquired during eavesdropping on her currently ex-boyfriend, but he knew that he would rather this then reading about the young men's deaths in the paper the next morning.

* * *

"Well," Zekkai quirked a brow, looking over the two young men approaching. "I'm somewhat surprised you didn't invite your body guard to our little get-together."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes as he came to stand less then a metre away from the demon. "If everyone I fucked became my body guard, I should be a very safe man by now, and I would definitely fire you."

"I am overwhelmed by your incredible wit," Zekkai said sarcastically. "Now, on to more important matters. If you were anyone else, I would assume that you were wondering what I wish to speak with you about, but since I know you better than that, I would guess you're too busy trying to figure out who to sleep with next. Though I can only imagine how you intend to solve this dilemma, I have yet to care." It gazed over at Jin, "Though I am curious as to why you are still one of his loyal minions, even after you and Julia have found each other. Is the Chang really that bad in bed?"

Jin frowned, almost in a pout, turning his head away in a refusal to respond. The beast would never get a word out of him again after what it had got away with earlier. It seemed the creature was intent on adding insult to injury, but he wouldn't give it that satisfaction. It would pay soon enough. He was sure of that.

The sound of a car pulling up reached the demon's ears alone. Judging by the whispers heard, the two young men in front of it were unaware that guests were due to arrive. The voices were familiar. It was the Chang and Lee. Zekkai looked back over at its fiery resentful former love, and thought aloud, "Why is it that the more I wish to kill you, the more obstacles stand in my way, but when I wish to be with you, it's only you that stands in my way?"

"I'm going to take a chance and guess that's a rhetorical question," Hwoarang said, furrowing his brow with slight insult.

"Well, as usual, I have every intention of disposing of all my obstacles. I hope you are prepared for a fight, My beautiful human, for this time I will not hold back."

Hwoarang fell into fighting stance, but Jin pulled him back, whispering, "You just got out of the hospital. It would be an unfair fight considering you're still weak, and it is a demon." He frowned as the Korean yanked himself away from the concerned Japanese. "Hwoarang. Be careful."

"Fuck off, Kazama." Hwoarang narrowed his eyes at the demon, falling back into his stance. "Now that we know that nobody will be holding back, let's get this show on the road. I'll teach you to threaten me, You fucking piece of Celestial shit. I'll take a chunk out of your ass and make you kiss it, you sick fuck!"

Zekkai smiled, greatly amused by the words, and eased into a stance of its own. "I wish you wouldn't speak like that towards me, my beautiful human. You know how it turns me on."

"We'll see how turned on you are when your own head is shoved so far up your ass you'll be eating your own lungs!"

"Sounds like an interesting sight."

Hwoarang sneered, and lunged forward kicking his former lover four times quickly in the jaw before jumping around and hitting it in the head it his other foot, knocking the demon sideways. He stood over it and frowned as he watched the wings sprout, and the psychotic grin taking form on the scarred face. Before it could climb completely to it's feet, Hwoarang brought his heel down on one of its wing's, smirking at the sickening crack that was heard.

The demon groaned through the pain, growing angrier by the second. It tested its wings, before frowning and looking over at the redhead as it got up. With one swift motion it moved into a solid blow to the side of the younger man, and followed that with an even more powerful blow to the chest. The hit sent the younger man falling onto his back, growling a series of unintelligible curses in a language that no one present could possibly understand. The general meaning behind the words, however, was perfectly clear.

As the Korean got to his feet, the demon stepped forward, crouching briefly before launching itself into a powerful uppercut, and as the victim fell, it spun into a forced kick that propelled the redhead away. He skidded across the grass, dirt, and rocks, practically bouncing as if he were a rock being skipped over water. The skidding came to a halt only inches away from the edge of the cliff.

Zekkai Stalked over, an arrogant sneer on its face as it lifted the younger man up and held him over the cliff. "I assume you know exactly what to do in this situation, based on past happenings, but just in case, I'll tell you. Beg."

"Never," Hwoarang spat.

They heard a gasp, and looked toward the trees to see Julia and Chaolan emerge. Enraged, Julia ran forward at the demon as it tossed her boyfriend back onto the edge, and turned, prepared for the girl's assault. She threw a punch, but it was caught and held. Before she could manage another attack, she was also tossed aside, like a rag doll. The demon did not spare her so much as another glance as it crossed its arms.

Lee stepped toward the demon, keeping a safe distance between them. He sighed and ran a hand through his silky silver mane, quietly speaking, "You're over reacting, Zekkai. There's nothing between him and I. We can barely stand being in each other's presence for even a moment."

The demon laughed bitterly, "It's a little late for that, Lee. If you can't stand each other, then how did it happen?"

"That's simple. Kazuya left him injured, And he was a bit out of it from sleeping so long. I suppose with the absence of his charm, I was able to glimpse what it is that everyone else seems to find so appealing. Of course, the minute he started talking again, afterwards, I regretted the whole thing," Chaolan lied with ease, almost making Hwoarang himself believe it.

A look of hope came across the demon's face, but it was soon replaced by loathing. It looked over the redhead with angry consideration, and started toward him, "You. You have ruined everyone here. What are these people to you? What gave you the right to pull them into this… this massacre of human relationships? And furthermore, what gave you the right to lower me to one of your random, meaningless loves? I will stand among these mortal's in your eyes no more."

Hwoarang growled under his breath as he got up, holding his side. He stifled a cough before answering, "Sounds like someone needs to get the facts straight. You really wanna know what gave me those rights? You did. I may have ruined Julia, and Jin, and maybe even Chaolan, but none of this would have happened if it wasn't for Kazuya. He's the one who pulled me into this fucking hell, so if he's angry, he should know it's his own fault! And I didn't fucking pull you into anything! You invited yourself into my life! You forced your way in, you selfish bastard, so don't ever try to place the blame on me!"

A look of hostility came over the demon as it pulled its arm back in preparation to unleash a deadly blow. Before it could be delivered, Someone grabbed its arm from behind. Zekkai turned in time to watch a small foot connect with the side of its head. A fist came down on it, followed by another in the stomach, the small combo being finished by a leaping kick to the chest, that seemed to have all the woman's weight and then some put into it. Any other day, the demon would have admired her for such a revolt, but it was too personal.

Zekkai reached out and grabbed Julia's neck. "You, my dear, have done nothing but get in the way. I swore an oath that I would kill you the first chance I get, and although my issues with you are less important then they had been, I never break an oath."

Julia tried desperately to pry the cold fingers off her neck, but to no avail. She struggled to breathe, but it hurt too much. It felt as though her whole neck was caving in. The pain was so intense, she almost wished it would cave in. She wished it would end one way or the other. This couldn't possibly be the pain that had won over her boyfriend.

"Let her go!" Jin stepped forward, breaking his silent promise to himself. "She doesn't have anything that you want!"

"That's very brave of you, my boy," Zekkai smiled mockingly at the young Kazama. It's grip on the American's throat tightened ever so slightly, and it's nails dug into her skin. A small trail of blood trickled down, leaving a line of stained skin, making her look unreal as if she had been painted up for a movie. The demonic man's smile turned to one of psychotic frustration as it yelled out, "You cannot expect me not to kill anyone! It's either her or Hwoarang. Take your pick, boy!"

Jin narrowed his eyes daringly. "You couldn't kill Hwoarang. You love him. I know you do."

Hwoarang himself seemed to flinch at that statement. His lip curled into a quick sneer, already regretting what he was about to do, as he said, "Leave them alone. You already have me, Zekkai."

Zekkai turned back around to study the fiery young redhead. It tilted its head slightly in wonder, a question on its face, turning its reflective gaze into a hungry smirk. It brushed a hand over the Korean's cheek, and tossed the girl away once again. Its eyes seemed to heat the younger man to the core, but he couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried. The more the beast hated him, the more he needed to be with it.

A deceitful tear escaped his eye. Though showing a weakness at such a time was dangerous, he did not try to hide it. The tear streamed down his cheek on the side of his face farthest from the spectators, so the only one able to see it was the only one who could use it against him. Strangely, he wouldn't rather anyone else view his weakness than his Zekkai.

"Go ahead," Hwoarang said, adding a mocking tone of his own, "Take what's yours. Nothing's standing in your way right now, right? Prove to these whiny bastards that you have the guts." He moved closer, gently running his hands along the demon's chest, slowly bringing them lower, and slipping his fingers into its pants. "I already know you have the balls. Come on, big daddy… Destroy me."

The demon glanced at the others with amusement, making sure they were catching the scene. It grabbed one of the hands roaming its body and pulled the boy to an angle. It kicked him in the back of the head before reversing the hit by bringing its leg back and nailing Hwoarang in the face with its heel. As the boy was falling over, Zekkai snatched him by the upper leg, and swung him up, before slamming him into the ground a few feet away, nearly knocking him off of the cliff once again. The smirk not leaving its face for even a second.

"Hwoarang!" Julia gasped, her voice dry from her previous conflict with the demon. She raised herself to her feet, trembling and sore, and staggered toward the fallen Korean.

Lee Chaolan watched Helplessly, afraid that if he attempted to help, it would only make the creature even angrier with the boy, therefore putting Hwoarang in even more danger. Still, he stood alert, prepared to jump in if he saw no other choice. The younger Japanese man had made it closer to the battle, marks tainting his skin, and eyes beginning to redden. Chaolan knew the war would be ending with this one fight. Not everyone present would survive this day.

Zekkai kicked the girl away from its former lover, and knelt down beside the boy, "You pathetic wretched boy. What makes you think you still have the power to seduce me? The thought of being enchanted by you ever again makes me sick, for I know how many other people you have been with in such a short amount of time." It stroked his hair, not caring that it found blood on its hand, and continued, "Now all I desire to take from you is your life."

Hwoarang blinked a few times trying to focus. He knew his head had hit something hard. Now the demon had three advantages over him, it was Devil, he was already weak from previous injuries and surgery, and now he couldn't see clearly. Those ever so cold lips closed down on his, paralyzing him even further. It was obvious the devious creature was only playing with him, but he didn't want the kiss to end. He wanted to live forever like that. He wanted a new ice age to hit right that second and drown them in an everlasting kiss that would never be touched again by sadness or anger, or even the intense animosity that he could feel building up inside him.

"Don't fucking touch me," The redhead growled, pushing himself up, trying to shake off his thoughts. "You fucked up real bad this time, Devil. Who the hell do you think you are? I may have gotten down and dirty with Lee, but at least I didn't rape Kazuya's son! And you did that before you even knew about Chaolan and I. You sick fuck!"

The Korean charged at the older demon, only to be dodged without effort. He stopped to spin around and try again, but suddenly realized he was losing his balance, and found himself about to fall over the edge. Someone caught him. Soon he felt himself being laid out on a bed of soft grass. A voice was speaking to him, but he couldn't understand the words. He just laid there, listening, finding a small amount of comfort in the soft rhythm of the person speaking.

Chaolan desperately tried to get a response from the young man. The boy wasn't unconscious yet, but he looked pretty damn close. It was a concussion. He sighed, knowing that he would have to play body guard after all. As if that demon wasn't pissed enough at him. This would surely worsen things. He didn't want to get involved directly…

"You jerk!!" Julia cried out, lunging at the demon in a series of sloppy kicks and punches that were bordering on desperate and confused slaps. She was obviously too injured and angry to focus correctly. "You lied to him! You ruined our lives! I hate you! How could you be so cruel?" She fell to her knees in sobbing fits.

As Jin looked over at the pitiful sight of his rival, all signs of the devil inside him vanished. He stood beside Chaolan, glancing back suspiciously at the soulless figure, standing there, already thinking the battle was won. Jin glared at the man who was once his mother's love, with hatred like no other. It wasn't that man anymore. It was evil.

Zekkai smirked down at the girl, "You want me to leave him alone? Then pray and he will not be harmed any further. Pray to me, my dear, and make it good."

Julia quieted down, staring up at the creature, tears still streaming down her face. Her eyes were red and bloodshot as she begged with a pained voice, "Zekkai… please have mercy. I would do anything for him. I know he's hurt you. I understand how you must feel, because he's hurt me too. Don't hurt him. You said you wanted me dead. Please, Zekkai, I beg you; take me instead."

"No!" Jin cried out, diving forward, "Julia!"

"I'm almost sad to admit that the one I hate most is the only honorable person here," The demon mused as it shoved Jin away with little effort. "Lucky for me, I couldn't care less about honor."

Jin got back up, baffled as to why his devil side wasn't taking charge like it normally did when he was angry. He ran at the creature anyway, hoping he could some how distract it from the girl. "Get away from her, you bastard!"

But it was too late.

The scene seemed to take place in slow motion. Even Jin couldn't seem to move nearly fast enough. As he dove at the American woman, the few seconds between them and the moment she was yanked out of his reach, lasted a dozen eternities. He watched, helplessly trying to get to her, as Zekkai placed a delicate kiss on her lips before pulling his free hand back and then punching the girl in the chest. Normally, such a scene wouldn't be so disturbing, but the look on her face painted a gruesome picture. In confirmation of the horror she seemed to be facing, the demon slowly took its fist back. As more of its fist was revealed to the spectators, the more realization waved across the area.

Blood ran down the demon's arm and dropped into the grass. Once the fist was in full view, the three men could see the flesh clinging to it. Silence fell upon the scene like an eclipse. Slowly and completely, and with the silence anger grew, feeding off the shock and the tension. The anger belonged to Jin alone. He pushed the demonic part of him into the dark corners of his subconscious where it would have no influence on his actions. This primitive thirst would have no distractions, and no inner conflict. The purity of his hostility would have its fill. There was no way that former member of the human race would get away with allowing that to take place.

Julia's limp body collapsed into his lap once the creature released her. Her chest was caved in, but she wasn't dead yet. Sad brown eyes stared up at him as she tried to speak. No sound came out but he knew exactly what she was trying to say. She was saying her beloved's name. Hwoarang.

With one last shudder, and a gasp for air, the girl grew still. She was gone.

Jin lowered his head, still holding the girl close to him. His breathing was deep and long as he tried to calm himself and sort out his thoughts. Soon he came to the conclusion that there was no sorting out to be done. All there was left was vengeance. That devil had to die. It had surpassed going to far by a million miles.

"Omae o korosu!" Jin shouted, lunging at devil. He tackled the demon, unfortunately being too pissed off to foresee the consequences of such. The two of them stumbled back, both expecting to hit against some more hard ground, only to be sadly mistaken when they began to feel themselves fall.

Zekkai slowly opened its eye, confused as to why it was no longer falling. It looked up to see dark Korean eyes staring down at it. That boy had caught them. Next to it was Jin, dangling by an arm, equally perplexed, and recovering from the initial shock of what had almost happened. But Hwoarang started to slip. He couldn't possibly be supporting them both, could he? Even one of them weighed more then he did, but two must have been excruciating.

He started sliding forward over the edge of the cliff. His eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth were barred and cringing as he strained to stop himself from falling without loosing one of them. Jin tried desperately to reach the demon within, so that he could use the wings, but that demon could not be reached. Even Zekkai seemed to be trying to come up with a way to lighten the boy's load, but with it's injured wing, there was no way.

Another face appeared over the edge, just before they were too far gone. Chaolan wrapped his arms around Hwoarang's waist just in time, and pulled him back up an inch or two. It was as far as he could bring the Korean, but still he held on tightly, not allowing the boy to slip anymore. "Hwoarang!" Chaolan panted, "You can't save them both. If you keep trying, you'll kill us all!"

"What the fuck can I do?!" Hwoarang demanded, trying again to pull the two dangling bodies up.

"You have to let one of them go. You can save one of them."

The statement angered the Korean. "Are you fucking insane? There's no way I'm going to drop one of them! Maybe you could do it, but I can't!"

Chaolan put his head down to rest on Hwoarang's back, in more of a hug then a restraint as he said sadly, "You have two choices here. Either you let one go, and let three people live, or you refuse and nobody lives. There's no point in trying to save them both when we know that doing that will just result in them both dieing anyway… I don't want to lose you."

Hwoarang looked over the two below him. Jin was looking down in a panic, while Zekkai was looking up at him with a thoughtful, distanced gaze. It was too proud to show that it was afraid. The hardest thing was accepting the fact that he had already made the decision.

The dark Korean eyes gazed into the demons as he admitted, "I loved you, Zekkai."

The look her received from Jin was once of peace, as if Jin had already come to the conclusion that he would be the one to be let go. He silently prepared himself mentally for the fall, but it never happened. Instead Hwoarang said something under his breathe so quietly that only Zekkai could hear, and then he released his grip on the demon. Even as Zekkai fell, their eyes didn't leave each others.

"I wish I could see your face as you burn in hell," Hwoarang mumbled venomously after his former lover.

………. One month later……. The Bahamas…………

"I'll be right out."

Lee pulled the pick through his hair, drawing a perfect part in the center and put it down on the sink. He straightened his tie and checked his watch. The meeting wouldn't start for awhile now, but there were things he wanted to clear up in his office before hand. After being away on vacation, the work tended to pile up.

The door opened and in the reflection of the mirror, he saw the face of his adopted brother. He gasped and spun around, but was faced with none other then the blood talon. "Jesus. Do you always go lurking around in people's bathrooms? I'm almost finished. You can have it in a moment. I just have to brush my teeth."

Without responding with words, Hwoarang shoved Chaolan into the empty airpool tub, and climbed on top of him.

"I see you've recovered quite well from your depression," Lee smiled, amidst a shower of playful kisses. "Please, try not to wrinkle my suit. I have a meeting in three hours."

Hwoarang smirked and reached over, twisting the knobs, and watching as the silver-haired Asian man's features go from pleasant to annoyed. Water poured in from the 16 jets, drowning the expensive fabric of Lee's 'dry clean only' suit. Satisfied that he had successfully irritated the older man, Hwoarang went back to his first task. He took his newest lover into a deep passionate kiss, barely noticing when the water came up to his hips. The jeans he was wearing needed a washing anyway.

Chaolan broke away for a moment to ask, "I thought you were going out to explore the island with Jin."

"Change of plans," Hwoarang said stealing his lover's lips once again. "Now be a good little boy and shut the fuck up."

"Little boy? I fear you've overlooked some minor details." Lee paused as he allowed Hwoarang to remove his pants before adding, "Of course… There are more important matters at hand…"

Hwoarang grinned, reaching down into the water, and gingerly stroking Chaolan's inner thigh. He nuzzled the older man's neck as he whispered, "You mean in hand?" and enforced the question by wrapping his fingers around the man's shaft. Even though the move was expected, it still drew a gasp.

"Why this good mood all of a sudden?" Lee asked between shallow breaths.

"Zekkai's back."

The END

A/N: Ok… To explain how Zekkai got back… Let's be realistic here. That was the same cliff Kazuya was thrown off when he was just a wee lad, so you can't honestly expect him to be killed by it when he's older and possessed by a devil! I hope you enjoyed this series. I will start on a new one now. I had originally planned for this to be a bit longer, but I didn't want to draw it out, and honestly everything was finished.


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